Hanging Empty Garden

Allow me, for a moment,
to step from my comfort zone;
and return to a place,
which chills me to the bone.

My place of solitude,
where I carry my despair;
and bury it in my garden,
suffering the toxic air.

Sowing seeds of sorrow,
from the misery bowl;
tending yesterday’s wounds,
pulling weeds from my soul.

Planting apathy to drown,
watered with tears of salt;
filtered through the blame,
knowing it’s always my fault.

Sitting in the poison dust,
of my empty garden;
bleeding out my disdain,
seeking a merciful pardon.

Knowing my disappointment,
is only what you will find;
is the awful stench of rot,
oozing out from my mind.

Fertilizing with the sadness,
the tree of false hope;
where you will find me,
hanging from the rope.

~greyeyesgabriel 2011