Weeds

I am walking through the garden in my mind. There are weeds. I look at them and I pull them up. They keep springing and I keep pulling them up. I have to do that occasionally, otherwise my garden will be outgrown by them.

I asked god to help me clear them up. I asked god, but he wouldn't answer. He wouldn't answer. So I have to work by myself and keep pulling them up occasionally.

I am tired. I get tired. Because new weeds keep springing up. It's something I have no control of. I pull the weeds. Because I have to and I need to.

I am waiting for god's answer. I am waiting, although I know he wouldn't answer me. It just hurts me really bad when here I am, just wishing to fix things up - make my garden weed-free. All good intentions. And god doesn't acknowledge it. I am a worm in his eyes. And a worm is how I feel whenever he does that to me.

I keep pulling weeds, they don't have a place in my garden. I pull them up. I pull them, and I am so tired it makes me cry. I am so tired because I have to keep a straight face as I pull weeds in my garden. I am so tired, and I don't learn enough. I know tomorrow my garden will be weed-free. Tonight there might be weeds. Tomorrow there will be none. Time is my friend. But when they're here I pull them up because that is what I should do.

Somebody told me that I should pick the weeds and keep the flowers. Somebody told me that. Sometimes I agree. Sometimes I ask myself why I should keep the flowers in the first place.

I pull the weeds. I pull the weeds. I pull the weeds so I can think of nothing else. So I can feel nothing else. I pull them, and I get so tired it makes me cry. My tears fall on the ground and new weeds spring up before my eyes, absorbing my fallen tears. I pull them out and stop my crying.

I wish I were somewhere else, far away from here.

I went inside the house in my mind, and came back carrying flowers. I throw them away on the ground since they're not worth keeping.

The next day I found weeds growing from the dead flowers.

I pulled them up. And I asked god again to stop them from coming. I know he wouldn't answer, but I'm hoping he'll relent.

And I'm still waiting. Still waiting as new weeds spring up before my eyes. I pull them. And I am so tired, but I pull them.

I pull them.

I pull them.

I pull them because I don't have any other choice.

And I am so tired. I am so tired.

But I pull them.

I pull the weeds. I pull the flowers.