Seed of Doubt

I found cracked brown leaves in the bed we share

and the window open, curtains blowing in the wind.

Gray light filtered into the room; my vision impaired

I’m burning up like hell, thinking that you’ve sinned.

I know he was here, do you see these leaves I say,

No he was not, why don’t you just stop you say,

I’m sorry you know, I get anxious sometimes I say,

It's okay baby, but don’t you think that maybe,

You should stop acting so crazy you say.

It’s no excuse but jealousy conquers my mind.

He’s got bark-solid skin, I bruise too easily,

and he has a hundred years of wisdom on me.

When storms roll through, he sways in the wind,

I get swept away. He doesn’t have a clue

that he always enters my head out of the blue.

He changes so gracefully, but never too much,

new leaves each spring, always tough to the touch.

I can see why you want him but at night it gets cold,

dead branches can’t keep you warm, I’m the one you hold.

When he comes back around I’ll make a fire out of him,

chop him down, piece by piece, bet that’ll sting.

Where did you go? Come back to Earth! you say,

I’m still standing in the kitchen next to you.

I’m sorry you know, just please know it hurts,

when you tell me he’s what you need I say.

I meant as a friend, please can this end?

you say, but everyone talks about it.

I close my eyes, what a wonderful life,

oak roots grow from our grave.

By Finn Girvan