I harvest a grip that clutches into my soul

it’s a seed that’s anxious and makes me wonder what I don’t yet know

and it grows into a tree that breathes in an oxygen made of desired stress

and gives out a mockery that’s more cruel than blessed

this tree twines and turns around my veins

knocking the adrenaline right out of my way

so I can dwell only on what’s my tomorrow instead of today

branches scraping the wrists, leaving earthy whispers

that tell me you’re everything I love but nothing I like

you’re breathtaking and striking but a stormy night

only helping this twisted tree grow wide and tall

my thoughts of you will soar and everything else will fall

my thoughts bloom, "can I, will I be your next?"

could I, should I, assume what’s untold is just a correspondence test?

in grasses green on starry nights, you bid me well

but when we’re with your friends, you give me hell

this hypocrisy is doing damage to my heart

and sometimes, I just want to tear the tree apart

because you’re not always who I think you should be

and I realize I deserve more than what you give me

you love me sometimes, but ignore me the rest

can’t you understand my tree and I need more than just a kiss?


my imaginary tree needs your soul in the soil

and your eyes by the sun

and your heart needs to coil

in the place where the tree and I become one

so make your decision, boy: am I good with your creed?

because once you decide you care for me where it’s enough

I can grow a new seed

and this one will be called love