it's sorta kinda

another day in the world keeps the molasses sap running in my veins and the blood letting down the drain i found a small pocket in the sky and put my secrets in it. now i cant remember what they meant to me and i think they may belong to someone else. but i can pick some new ones off the yellow tree that sprouted in the yard last night. i wouldnt have noticed it except it made a huge bang when it pierced the top layer of soil.. throughout the day it has changed colour and the trunk is now the colour of melancholy and the leaves tear little holes in the sky. the cat sits on the second branch from the top and looks through me with his green eyes, at least it stops him from walking on the keyboard while i type. my bed sends out radar to me, and i try to ignore it - not wishing to lay awake dreaming of sleep. those herbal infiltrations are sewing small sleep pods over the weeks recently, and there may be a harvest soon. but right here right now the feeling is heavy and intoxicating in the manner of weeks of staring into some very dark brown eyes flecked with gold