The Forest Without A

Lend me hooks to climb upon

I cry into the middle of the night

Yelling to the old bird stuck in the trees

The old crow lingers on my wrist

It builds nests constructed out of my skin

I lie there on the ground

The time passes slowly

My body now merging with the dirt

Let me grow roots like trees

Let me touch the sky with my nose

Let my limbs hold houses for tiny souls.

I hope to live undying like they do.

Endless colossus of the forest.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s