our cell has become too crowded. my cell-mates repeatedly push me to the walls, barely giving me space. i am expected to hold hands with chains that are willing to decapitate me, all in order to maintain my partners' well being. how come i can get kicked out so easily, yet create havoc once i get too far? the sun climbs up to her throne again, sending burning kisses my way. she has repeatedly put the rain to rest, and it seems like her reign might last even longer this time. the souls around me eagerly shake my hand; one apologizes, one refuses to, and one presents their regards – the end has come. i watch them dissolve into the ground then get transported by the wind to their final destination. i sigh, does it have to be like this every single time? once again, i am left standing alone. our cell remains too crowded. the wind comes back, asking me for a portion of flesh, in order to keep the remaining ashes together. you can grow a new one, right? he asks. of course. of course i can.
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