Boomer

There is a tree
breathing and swaying
my eyes are fixated
and my body is lifeless
emotionless
as if we're apart
all i can feel,
is a connection to this tree
with faces, faint smiles
it feels as if time,
has been washed away
every aspect of my life,
doesn't seem to have meaning
and this all may be an illusion
a figment of my imagination
a dream, a drunken dream
cause we can't just live
and my pupils
overlap the color of my eyes
this fungus makes the world,
more beautiful and understanding
the sky looks like a giant ocean
the slow motion
of plants breathing
rippling in the grass
the unknown connection,
and nature's poison
may as well be the answer
to the made up idea
that we continually
build our lives around,
time.