It feels like I’m being picked clean
When the eagle pecks my innards
Always looking inward, where do I begin?

If you had the wood
And I gave the stone
Would you strike me to see if you make fire?

If I showed you how to grow
Let the maize grow even higher
Would you provide the fruits
If i began to expire?

****** if I do,
Or ****** if I don’t
Just wanted to lift you a little bit higher
See Olympus on high
As the gods pass us by,
Give you the means for all you could desire.

Feels like a lightning bolt struck my soul
A static shock to jolt my mind
I’m trying to piece through a puzzle
But the square pegs won’t fit in the round holes.

(Save me)
I’m giving up as the tide comes
Hope Poseidon brought his pitch fork
(I’m done)
Ready to find a reason to give you reason
(Only wanted you to know)
Everything magic is practical if you practice.

Feels like I’m being picked clean,
This eagle is pecking at my innards
Always looking inward, wish I was as wise as Damocles.

Her love spread like the branches of a fig tree, reaching for the sky.
She offered shade during the hottest days, sheltering them from the harsh sun.
She kept them dry, protecting them from the tears of the sky.
They built their homes upon her spine, and though they never asked, she allowed it.
They carved their initials into her skin and bone, claiming her as "mine."
They thought her branches were meant to fuel their fires,
so they took chainsaws to her heart.
Despite the pain they caused, she believed that loving someone meant enduring it.
But in the end, they only cared for the sweetness of her fruit.