by Anna Heiar
Twisted branches follow me
Some tend to creep
But others I never see
Until it’s too late and they are upon me.
They twirl around and grasp my arms and restrain my legs.
I kick and scream and even use my teeth,
But it does nothing.
They just stand there, looming over me until I stop the fighting.
Until I give in.
Then the branches are shoved down my throat into my lungs.
They are all that I breathe, and they are intoxicating.
Glimpse of torment and self hatred are all that I see.
The cheering of voices I wish to disappear forever ring in my ears.
The grimy hand I wish to push away clutches onto my skin, refusing to let go.
The bark rubs my throat dry and my insides turn to mush.
I just want it to go away.
I just want to forget for another day.
The trees begin to retreat to the back of my mind,
Becoming still right before my eyes.
They sit there, staring at me,
Waiting for the right moment to strike.
I shake my head and try to burn these trees,
But to burn the bitter taste left in my mouth would set the whole forest on fire.
Some trees are fresh and wouldn’t burn instantly,
But nothing can run from the fire forever.
Not from a fire so bright that it is all I see,
And once it fades away, an empty shell is all I will be.