Outlet

I trekked up the trail of a million fallen leaves –
gradient from luster brown to bright scarlet – leaving crunched twigs
and imprints of presence
attempting to forget the woes of the heart where soft lips have
somersaulted – I can still feel the prickles on my skin,
And yet, my arms seem to disagree as thorns scratch embeddingly

Grappling for foothold after foothold
Water crashing on stray rocks and crickets croaking songs of battle
Birds signaled the clash as slithering reptiles quietly
watch the spectacle – all of this engages whilst I fight my own skirmish
Every fiber is wrung of ether, my body cries for reprieve but never a
Cry for surrender;

Deeper and deeper the woods embrace me, a blanket of leaves and a house of greens;
a numbing hollowness, a pit of despair and a rope of hope turning a head
Jailed in my own doing, I stop and heave; hands on my waists – an image of him flickers
I cast it aside. I cast him aside. I cast the world aside. I cast myself aside.
And the dangerous descent to a pool of shivering liquid,
slippery and slimy, Gaia transforms as another enemy.

Though at last, as I sit on a fallen log and green boulders cringe
while water laps at their nonexistent feet; above where the falling whites of summer
snow – angry and deranged – scream my internal tugs of war
For me;
the biting chill was solace
and the vines wept what I guarded so dearly.

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