Empty Garden

I rushed gratefully into your grownup embrace
Hoping to use you to mature myself
But I was not cautious, not considerate, not cool
Telling myself it was a friendship, for both of us
Not letting myself see how you were being lacerated
By the serrated edges of my desperate indifference
I who had been destroyed then swung the crane around
And took out an edifice that was not my own
Then feebly fumbling among the bricks, counting them
Insisting you can't be damaged, they're all still here
They land on my feet and I raise an umbrella
You gave of yourself, and I grinned and said 'thanks'
But there was nothing inside me to give back
And your veins burst in the vacuum
I am no longer so vain as to think I was your world
But I took the garden you gave me and sowed it with salt

Forgive me, someday, if you can