keep the stems

im alone, no one can be talking to me.

im with the trees, my secret service agency

i have my own back, given i'm spineless

stuck in a machine's rotational latency.

just me and the trees and the birds and the seeds.

the bees ran away when they met the breeze

leaving me to accept my mortality

in a world with nothing to change how i proceed.

picking up the beautiful flowers, deep inhale.

let the aroma keep your lungs from going stale

remember the colors you saw when he would smile?

his touch made your heartbeat register on the richter scale.

pull the ivy, such bland beauty for admiration.

changing a bland white lattice to a romantic iteration

braiding together the stems with fingers so nimble

pondering methods of cessation.

hanging from the tree, do i look as peaceful as you remembered me?