I went to visit the tree we planted
The seed that fell as our hearts connected
The hope that grew as love erected
A time before I was neglected

I buried my heart where you rejected
And even left faith if ever collected
I have found peace and wrongs been corrected
The tree keeps our poetry safe and protected

© Delia Ross. 2020

I still plant his poetry in the better parts of me… his entire existence became a nebula for my poetry and to be honest I haven’t stopped writing about him. I wonder if he still reads these.

In an alternative universe, there is a tree growing with our initials, threaded together by our poetry.

His existence changed me. It’s still changing me. I wish he grasped the power of that.

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Messy but fucking lovable

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