The Seed

Buried under days and dreams,

In my brain, you've become the seed,

Nestled among folds and fissures,

 Blending in 'til nothing differs.

Roots cut through each thought and bone,

Weaving through cold, brittle stone,

Fed by memories I can’t shake,

A garden of me, and you the snake.

I try to prune, to pull away,

But each attempt cements your stay

Stretching toward the light you left,

Twisting tighter, spine in weft.

Every breath I take is overgrown,

My heartbeat echoes into the unknown,

You flourish in this darkened space

A seed that grows into a maze.

And this growing seed is what remains,

A construct fed by longing chains,

As I open my eyes, struck by the truth,

The seed is all that's left of you.