You try to plant poisonous flowers in my mind,
they may smell sweet but I know the death that’s inside.
I can’t keep up with weeding them out,
the seeds you spread grow and sprout all around.
My mind is consumed, I try to distance myself from you.
But it’s too late, now I am controlled and lifeless.
My mind garden a desolate wasteland of nightshade.
That one tree that survives against all odds
will be dead soon enough.