My seemingly loving efforts appear to have been~
regardless of my good intentions.
That stupid fucking realization:
“The grass only grew when we left it alone.”
And I then-
Well, I looked at my hands;
each rubbing the other like it would somehow bring the other- comfort…
and I flashed upon a memory…
a memory of my father~
wringing his hands…
Because there’s nothing else you can do when “rainy days and Mondays always bring you down…”
I wished that it was all gaslighting-
I cannot deny my own part in the fire-
that fire that burnt everything.
Everything we loved-
Everything we planned-
All the things we planted-
I am the common denominator who just…
Just brought it to it’s knees and then to a-
To a bitter fucking end.
And everything I thought I knew
and everything I was meant to do-
Was smoldering… kindling~
Left to mildew:
Mildew like forgotten laundry in the wash~
The kind you forget because you think you’re happy;
you are busy;
you feel content.
Then and only then-
do you realize:
you left it;
left it TOO long~
in the rain… and also;
On the line-
and now it’s sour;
That smell can not be washed out.