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Bad Seed

Bad Seed

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WpMetadataReadComplete Sat, Apr 4, 2015<5 mins
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Poetry
You wouldn't want to hang out with me. Fuck it, I'm pulling the plug. And going to die now, from lung cancer. But lung cancer isn't going to be the root of my death. I am the root of my death and my life. The seed, I am a bad seed that plants itself in the dirt of a garden full of roses. As they grow to become beautiful and good-smelling. I am growing into a bitter old willow that tries to eat anyone who dares come close. Like the Old Man Willow of the Old Forest in Tolkien's tales. What made the Old Man Willow happy again? Wasn't it music from the magic flute? Played by Tom Bombadil, the knight in not so shining armor. A knight nonetheless, a knight that comes in the night to bring dawn and sunlight. And Goldberry, the golden beauty sprouted from amidst the rotten corpses of spiders and bad seeds. Sometimes Willows turn to roses. If tended carefully and lovingly by Tom Bombadil and Goldberry. We all need love and care.
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#395
smoking
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  • Persuasive

There was something about him. Or maybe there was something about me. I didn't want him in my life but he ran into it; literally. He liked to hide in trees, irritate me, and read books; despite the fact that it went against his image. He was more than meets the eye. Although at first I didn't want to know more. He lured me in like an unsuspecting moth to an open flame. Knowing the dangers I went in, wanting to know more. It could hurt me but it was too irresistible and I was drawn in. This isn't how the bad boy made me bad or about how I made him good. This is about how we changed each other lives. In good and bad ways. Whatever that means. "I don't bite.... hard." He smirked at me, winking one of his bright hazel eyes at me. It only made me more frustrated. "Yeah but Hunter, if you did you'd probably give me rabies." I rolled my eyes looking back at the book in my hand.

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