The weight of ones actions

Is of an Ax that

Determines where the mind drifts to...

Who the words bend to,

And what the tongue speaks to.

As the timber has been sliced

The wood will fall

But its breath won't be forgotten.

The wind will heal

But it won't forget.

The sky will see

And it will bestow judgement regardless.

Sometimes

It will be a flower presented to us.

Sometimes

It will be our own necks left between the ghetto cracks.

Where tears became lost memories.

Where footsteps sunk and never ascended.

Sometimes

It will teach us loneliness.

The same feeling we may be familiar with

That will cuddle us with our problems.

A teddy bear that springs a cactus to the mind.

It will push our veins to the edge of mercury.

So we can burn with the gas we drowned ourselves in.

Sometimes

We are our own punishment.