They are the only ones that allow the pain. I am the only one who understands why. Three sacrificial lemon trees flourishing with green and speckled with yellow. Three lively beings amongst the never-ending desert. Three isolated trees here to please me. From my mind I can relive the moments, but the memory only lasts a second or two.

Their agony is disguised. They exist to satisfy my youthful time. They sway in the breeze and whimper in the hellish heat, silently awaiting the season to come to an end and for their unfortunate fate to be met. This is why they came to be and carry on.

Let one never forget their reason for being, to conduct an everlasting grin on my face, nose, and memory. Sway, sway, sway in the wind, you weep when I pluck you, but you’d never shed a tear. They mask the sting.

When my needs have been met and I carry on for the day, I leave you out in the daylight to wither. When you are nothing but bones, exhausted from abuse. Three who mask their demise. Three who survive for someone else. Three whose reason to be is for me and only me.