Just Seeds

Is this the part where we stop feeling like kids?
These thoughts rust in my hands
Like the habit you just can’t shake.
And just like that painting in our guest room,
We look flawless from afar, beautiful in our surreal composition.
But up close our flaws are gaping and the unit is clearly a mess.
This spurs the growth of distrust and skepticism.
Fantasies changed in a matter of seconds—the beginning of
Something ugly and maybe even eternal.
But who cares? They’re just seeds.


Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, reality hits you like a fucking train and puts a chasm in your family…a chasm that feels like the Berlin Wall—and I’m not one for choosing sides. The void has never felt more like home.