My Garden
I have been here far too long
with the grass growing through me
sprouting up on my toes and chest,
flowers adorning my hair.
A bird perches on the lawn
of my leg watching the bees
pollinate the laurel of my head.
The woodlice inside my heart
have burrows through its memories.
And the night begins to fall,
the whispers of wind luring my soul
up towards the stars when I hear you
call me in, saying it is time,
and I don’t know whether I am falling
back towards home, or away from it.
