Pain

Pain

Life dies.

Ice melts.

Fruit rots.

Teeth fall.

Hearts stop

Pumping.

Things are lost.

This is pain.

Let it hurt.

Scabs peel away.

Grow around your scars.

Let your scars rise.

Brandish your anguish

And relish in it.

When it is a hole,

Put your happiness in it.

Bury it.

Then plant seeds

Over that grave.

You may find

That you have miles

Of graves.

That is fine.

The more farms to sow

The more room

There is

To grow.