Sanctuary [Poetry]

4eD

my body is trapped in a greenhouse; outside is a fake sunlight, fake sky, a fake reality. inside this place i couldn't feel the wind, nor my hair dancing along with my movements.

it was as if i was there, shackled - my feet planted like i was the tree, my root occupied the surface, sipping in the poison prepared just for me.

my skin is a dry field, a dessert and a wandering scorpion crawling, tearing me apart - red spider lilies wherever it goes.

it cut and it cut, until all i am is a garden of footprints, vanishing.

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feb1-22