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Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1557732
a nightmare I suppose
I never had two feet on the ground.
And though you are holding my hand,
When you look away,
I can't help but fly.

I flutter
As I turn
Roots emerge from the ground
Embracing my legs
Clasping over my chest

The hand that held me
In smoldering heat
In bitter cold
The figure is no longer the heart ache,
But a tree.

Pure,
Wholesome,
and green.

You are god in a heartbeat,
-and human in a blink of an eye.





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