Here or There

I cannot say I was ever here.
A heart set on experiencing every detail,
so if fate had a hand I was never real.
You’re a mediocre poison, and I need you.

If a sorry could mend these holes
then I’d carve into sky lengthy apologies.
These grinning masks are breaking
when the stoic reality arrives.

Race in the garden to be the first
to arrive at the willow tree.
Now choose between branches
that linger in such vast quantities.

At the sea I lost my virginity to the world,
and the shores held together by my roots
seemed to be fading into the foggy uncertainty.
A decision I can’t make is sinking into my heart.

A picture is host in personal reminiscence
graciously allowing the sensations of nostalgia.
A beetle climbs the tower and it remains
in a never ending cycle of motion.

If only my heart was lean then it could
slip between the arrows tied to tongues
and the swelling of knowledgeable intent
would disperse along with dreams of freedom.

Decisions vouch for the need to expand.
I am the camel and with effort I drudge on.
Within me is the a cocoon, and if I stay too long
then a husk will be all that remains.