The Willow

Sometimes when I choke on the lie the world has spun
I open the door and run
Burry myself in the backyard
Plant tulips on my head
Cry for the dead
Watering the plants from my dread

Sometimes I run to the park
I scrape my hands on the bark
Of a tree
I pretend it's reality
Hide myself under the skeleton fingers of a willow
Nestle my face into its trunk
My fingers clawing the bark
As if it's the essence of life
Here I'll lay
And like this
I stay
For the willow
Too
Hasn't been touched in years
And together we shed our tears...