my anxieties are seeds and they grow into assassins
Published in
Nov 21, 2020
in the wet days of june when farmers trusted the earth with their dreams, i dug a hole behind my house and buried my issues to die under the weight of my ambition to be a life without shipwrecks and i never believed that my anxieties were mustard seeds that fall by the graveside till i saw a shoot in my nightmares
a tide dashes my side and the sea holds a knife to my throat and says in the last voice i hear before i fight for my life
"look me in the eye, shiver into an energy too strong for your heart"
