He plants these seeds inside my brain
He plants them cause he can’t feel my pain.
But, he wants me to feel everything that he feels.
So I water his seeds until their roots are real;
They grow like Jack in the bean stalk, through the roof of my head,
I can feel the vines surrounding me, growing with every thought of the words that he said.
Repeating them, and making them grow,
yet craving sweet release.
Craving him to look me in the eyes with love,
to feel the solid ground again.
To know that the universe is on my side.
He holds me in the palm of his hand, and he sprinkles his seeds inside my brain.
My vines are wrapped around his finger, and even when he yells I linger,
Because my heart is too shallow to stand alone.
I imagine that as a kid he never learned respect.
He never learned how to fix his tone of voice, how to say sorry, or how to ask things nicely.
I imagine that he has never admitted to being wrong,
that he has never looked within himself for the problem, only projected it onto something else.
Who did he pick on before me?
I imagine him yelling at a wall, like he treats me now.
A target for feelings, throw them here, I will soak them in.
Plant your little seeds, and the roots will begin; and they swim through my
veins all the way down to my toes, they control my footsteps, they control my thoughts.
I can hear him yelling at me when he is not even there.
When I can’t find my keys, or when I make these little mistakes,
I water his seeds, and search for a rake to week out the thoughts of me being great.
So, plant your seeds, I say to him.
I’ve got room, and you know I’ll give in.
Cause you know I’ll still be here,
even when your flowers are cut, and it’s time to plant again.