this honor and conditions are met
when and where we met
under that cedar
in the orange and ebony glow
of the night-time
we cut the tree down
then appears two trees
one possessed by
a spirit woman, desiring
water to fertilize the lands~
at times I think
drugs are a prison utopia
a wet blanket
keeping me within
a dry Framework of mind
I hate it, I hate this
child I have birthed
I wish I destroyed
every one of my dreams
had every monster and kept my mind pure
carve statues
with French blood
in them all
like me, dotting the divine
pastel colored mountains
above the village
of which I am from.
Storms are coming
but I await your
hand to choke me until I wake
leaving the cedar
the spirit woman
and these demonic
thoughts
alone to fend for themselves.
a/n: This was the music I was listening to while writing this... haha
