The breeze carries my thoughts away before i write them down
The trees and the berry bushes contrast with the clouds
Their roots firmly planted, still one with the ground
Surrounding my body, the thoughts rotate around
I am the trees but they are the clouds
Leaves fall, branches extend, extrapolating my woes.
Thistles in a rosebush ***** my fingers, the droplets of my blood match the red of the roses.
Like a beautiful psychosis.
Enchanting but dangerous, i cherish thorns and roses
Pain is my muse, like music infused with the ghost of my past,
It strengthened yet healed my fatal necrosis
Everlasting words haunt me, a faint shadow's imprint on the yellowing grass.
I cannot see growth without a ruler to measure
Embellishing my struggle for pleasure because the truth is unbearable
Yet my lies burn my skin, ensnaring my essence like sweet smelling ether
Entrancing but terrible.
