Grass isn't my road

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I admit, it’s been a long road.
I travel by foot and talk with lies.
I’ve lost so many soul-less lives.
There have been people walkin’ in and out of my door.
One of these days, I’m going to lock it.
But that isn’t like me, not at all.
I’m not to keen about that idea either.
I’ll rest my head on the firm dewy grass.
It’s smell is fresh cut, even my hair doesn’t smell this moist.
The sun is leaving me shadow to ponder on.
These puffy white motionless clouds make me nervous.
“Move,” I say, “Please, move so I know you can hear me,” but they don’t.
This firm grounded body stays beneath me and I feel at home.
I can imagine myself living off it all, not worrying about anyone, just me.
I don’t want to fight anymore; I want that door close.
Closed, so know one can be my downfall.
It’s late after noon and travels pass me by.
I must be invisible to them, sure feel like it.
My skin is cold to them, but I feel like I’m burning inside.
Burning, while they’re enjoying the heat.
I’ll cool off, so they can freeze.
There’s no pulse in my pale arm.
I never touched it, or cut it.
There is something deeper inside of me, not even a knife can get at.
This firm body of grass covers my sides.
Feels very sublime.
Another traveler passes by, and he see’s me seeping into the ground.
His muddy fingers twine with mine, and he pulls.
“Leave me alone and let me perish,” I voice.
“Not one chance lil’ lady,” he protests.
His muscled arms yank me from the ground, as if he were my own mother, giving me birth.
Am I reborn because of this man?
Is he my unknown keeper?
We both walk in the same path, as the grass tries to pull us in.
But the grass can’t pull me in, not now and not ever…





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