When is it time to cut the Vines
When there is no rhyme? No reason?
Or, even a season?
I was a mere distraction from all your infractions
You were sick, not healed
You pealed away at my sanity
Layer by layer
Using me to help you, do that which you could not do on your own
You were not grown, you were not right
It was not up to I to set you upright
Damn you. Damn me.
Cut the vines….cut the vines