Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Windy Moonlight

I dreamt of beetles filling skulls of dead men,
Blossoms razoring the edge of sanity and
My emergence as a butterfly from the sick caterpillar.

I awake, a dream of rape and silence killing my heart.
Crickets don't chirp here, the death
Is too thick.

I chose to be a garden, but not the rose
I desired to spring into.
I became a bed of dandelions and weeds,
Grasses that disturb the allergies and
Insects that pick at what I once was.

Buried amongst leaves,
I thirst for puddles of rain water,
Begging my roots to take journey and
Desiring the chance of seasons.

Through showers of greed,
The soil smothers me down to the earth,
Spring passes me by and I don't grow.
Thunderstorms remind me of what
Was taken from me, I can now only
Sway in the windy moonlight.

2-28-11


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Windy Moonlight

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