Grow

Dead like the growth of grass in the winter time, I’m left in the box that you
put in the back of your mind.
Now the gum from your shoe is stuck on a photo of me.
He’ll touch you under blankets but won’t remember your eyes are green.
Fine, I’ll go far from you.
Because you know I do what you tell me to.
I guess I won’t be mended with my favorite color.
The fabric will fade, but I won’t ever love another. My heart was stripped of
all its bark.
It came back calloused, cold and hard.
You’re in my veins.
And knock on my door but I won’t come because you can’t watch me come undone.
Oh, I’m insane, my love.
Fine, I’ll grow far from you.
Because you know I do what you tell me to.