Fractals of Grief

I went for a walk down a cold, glowing street And cried for the wind to stop howling at me I should probably go home, pick my head up off my feet But all that I can do is grow fractals of grief A garden's a nice way to tend to your mind But when I go digging I don't know what I'll find Dead roots of flowers or a pale green leek Or a beam from a tower of a fractal of grief "Please come home," I call out to myself "You don't know the road and it's cold as hell You're no person, you're no poet, you're no abstract belief You're just a vessel that's meant to grow fractals of grief"