You sit on the toadstool
With your hukkah
With your hundreds of legs
And millions of eyes
Boring a hole into my fungused mind
I am the author of your smoke-rings
the creator of your smile
...and the architect of your
heartbreak
I bear my burden like a saprophyte
I know I have made a mistake.
Like bringing corpses to sunshine
Rain to a rotting field
Or unhappiness to you
I am the guilty mushroom
under your weight
Many thanks to PopCorn Joy for their review & help
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