Hexagons

I must've forgot to remember
The joy that creation can bring
Planting seeds with our fingers in rows
In the lingering hope that they'd make it to spring
And now it's too late to surrender
My dermis is covered in bees
I let a hand skim over honeycomb skin
Before another life cycle begins
And I know you see me shudder at
Your touch
But these hexagons can only hold
So much
~
And wouldn't you like to indulge me-
Though sympathy was never your thing
You scattered your seeds by dead rivers and trees
With no thought if they'd make it to spring
And if I should grow through this anger-
Explain away cuts that wont heal
I'll still feel your sting through my honeycomb skin
And know whatever we had wasn't real
Know whatever we had wasn't real
No, whatever we had wasn't real