I want to ask if you're alright and I know it's a stupid thing to say, given your last journal.
But here's hoping you get to see this.
I know I don't know you, you don't know me
and were just strangers meeting by chance in this giant web, we all seem to be flies in,
I don't know what spiders lurk at your front door,
or if there's poison in your veins from the bites you've been dealt.
But I pray that you're still breathing, that the venom tearing through you,
hasn't reached your heart.
And that Lion muscle doesn't sleep tonight.
Maybe you see your reflection in garbage bins and think that you're no better,
that the world is better off without such a sight.
But though Gardner I might not be,
I've seen fertilizer from things many only thought as trash and flowers bloom in the worst of places. So if you think yourself so worthless,
just remember there's a garden that'd love to call you home.
I'm not sure if the power of speech is enough to breathe the life back into the