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It only took words
to amputate all that growth.
Your words as much as
Anything he said or did:
Your delusion is astounding.
You would rather tell anyone else—
The pain you feel,
The burden you bear.
Anyone,
but the ones
Who might help you,
Hold you,
Stand beside you.
Did you light a candle,
Or did you curse the darkness?
The tree rotted, yes,
Its strength eaten from within.
You saw the signs—
Felt the disease spread,
The blight consume
Green leaves and
White flowers.
Yet you did nothing,
Said nothing.
The cure was within your grasp,
not an arm’s length away.
You wouldn’t even reach that far.
Your solution was as simple
and convenient
as a trip to the tool shed.
Who laid the axe to the tree?
You.
Do not speak of burdens and pain,
for you know of none such as this.
As for speaking aloud
I have done that, too.
Tell me,
is it a fault of my own
that noone would listen?
God forgive me for
having a voice now.
I felt no disease spread,
for I had grown with it for years.
Delusions, delusions, delusions.
Make no mistake,
I once thought I was happy,
I once thought I was whole.
Those are the delusions you mean to speak of.The tree is me,
and he the Earth.
The ax could not be made
had another tree not fallen before my own.
Nor could the shed be built.
However, had I the Earth,
in all its shaped feelings,
on my side and not its own,
no ax or shed would exist.
The world would be covered in forest
and I would be at the center of his.
