Trees

Seemingly I have nothing, nor anyone. A simple equation solved with the most basic of needs. I am lost, and am all alone. There is a trap set for the game, a hunt that takes place at dawn! I am sweet, but you mustn't mistake me for lovable- a wretch is what I am, so fear my horror filled cry. I can see the ending, but I've know the outcome my entire life- home. Kings among men, warriors among women. I fight for truth, but that's a lie- the naked truth is falsified, I am only classified. Can you feel my hot air shooting down your neck? The goosebumps leave evidence of satisfaction, or is the only way out through a locked spirit- this passage is my breaking legs! A quick snap brings me to me knees, and suddenly agony all across my body; this car crushing is drove by the one you hired. My breathing slows, yet my heart pumps- though the gutter now carriers blood through the city sewers just like my pungent veins. This is what the file reads, murder in no degree. Whimpers? Whispers? Mumbles? Shouts? Nothing but the thud on the ground.


Stressed Out.

Trees grow from my remains.