Vines are parasites
Climbing up trees and blocking out light.
They steal water and air,
Just like you.
And instead of a vine around a trunk,
It was your hand around my neck.
I couldn't breathe,
Because of the fear of you.
Like the displaced bird ceases it's song,
I stopped mine.
And you watched,
With no intention of letting go.
I wilted.
You moved on.
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetics
PoetryI felt it was time for a new beginning, so I've restarted my collection of poems. Feedback is encouraged.
