Lab Grown Diamond – Poem

Lab Grown Diamond by Erickson // Painting: les vessenots en auvers by Van Gogh

Excuses sneak
and wrap you in their diamonds
like a snake.

The stomach hisses.
The feeling of reaching for your missing phone — 
arm as an Other,
and a feather hand 
makes for an ill approach.
You’re addicted.
The scramble in your chest
is a realization —
“you are not all that you could be —“
a slithering piece.

You lie in the fields.
When will you arise?
The wheat around you grows:
stop-motion soil
tucked into holes.
Brushstrokes
of green, like a Van Gogh
roar and will to the light.

This changes your needs for survival, your concepts of fight. 

Nutrient yellow blossoms
disrupt your familiar stagnant sightline:
covering light blue and creating daylight lightning in the clouds.

Suddenly, a sound.
Fear of decay relays the break.
Your stillness is stolen — 
A brutal crunch of a boot,
and overalls and patchy hat pays no mind to you.
After all, you’re just a snake in the grass. 

                  Get around to it.
Fighting has ceased; welcome disease. 
                  Easily tomorrow.

You would grow if you could.
                   I know,
You would grow if you could. 

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