Can’t see the trees in the forest,
Can’t see the eyes amongst the underbrush,
Can’t see what lies before us,
Can’t see what lies have been told for us,
Too focused on the whole;
I neglected the parts.
This is where I fall apart.
It’s all ending, but there was never a start…
What’s left to be said?
How can I dread,
That which is cloaked in the scent
Of chocolate obsession and sugary addiction?
Bravery in spades,
But when the light fades,
And all debts are paid,
What will remain of this forest we’ve made?
I stare and they stare back.
The abyss that judges is aware,
But I pretend not to care,
Pretend and I swear:
This is the end; the last time.
Even though I know it’s not,
Because my heart cannot be fought,
And the eyes in the forest,
Know I can’t put this to rest.
It’s the ultimate test
Of self control.
The eyes that watch.
The eyes that judge.
There’s no hiding from what’s begun;
No hiding from what’s above.
Even the canopy that blocks out the sun,
Can’t stop the gaze of the dreamer;
The gaze of the deceiver;
My gaze and my lies.
I wish it was rife with wildlife:
Eagles, foxes, and lemurs;
Casual observers, not –
Judge, Jury, and Executioners.
Where are all the lawyers
For the shamefully repentant?
For the decadently dependant?
Maybe it’s as I’ve always suspected:
We are always alone in our own defense.
So I try to see the forest for the trees,
Meet their eyes and not freeze,
Stand tall and greet the breeze.
Ignore the candy sweet smell of fallen leaves,
And sidestep the outstretching hug of growing branches.
We made this jungle, tree by tree,
Planted each reminder of every mistake.
Just what would you take back and
How long until we break?
How long until we raze this miserable park to the ground?
– Jessie Gutierrez