Toeing the line between too ripe and rotten

Dandelions sprout through tar covered concrete

I feel it in my chest

Ivy crawling up white wooden posts

Mucus caught in my throat

Along with a jumble of words

I’m supposed to sit in the feeling

But it’s far too potent

Yet I let it rest in my mouth

Under my tongue

Between my teeth

Harsh, but sweet

Like cinnamon

Keeping the peace

Instead of waging a war on myself

But oh god, I wish I had the courage to do it

Let nature overcome me