weed

M. Jane

She strides into the
greenhouse: confident; calm.
She walks right up to
me and smiles.
I smile back.
I think I love her.
We leave, hand in hand;
my lips will meet hers
and I will suck the
marrow out of life;
delusional beauty.

She makes me happy.
And happiness is what
we all need.
She makes me feel
new, refreshed
and free of my pain.
She rests my mind
and calms
the world’s madness.

She never stays
too long though.
She always leaves.
And I find myself
running after her.

Running to
her highness.