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Life comes in many forms. Brown, thick and packed like sardines surround my body like the Devil in disguise. Soiled veins under pressure like a tourniquet wrapped around their throbbing throats, beating them into submission under a cloaked holographic skyline. My struggle; similar to a rose breaking beneath concrete, begging to see life, even through a barbaric lens. Where is there to go but up? Dust will settle around me like ash taking its rest after a city that had been raped by fire. Worms will crawl through my torso, starved for experience and yet, fed by me. My only choice is up. I broke through the soil, my branches hitting the body of a naked corpse with gouged eyes and larva screaming through the dead girl’s torso for their pointless lives. I’ve hit a wall, but I can break glass ceilings. My branches licked through her chest like the fear of God had a child and birthed It through her heart. My growth has altered, but I do not falter. The oak from my arms shattered every bone in the woman’s body, growing around her like the captor of her soul. My arms contorted, my leaves disfigured and wanting, but grown nonetheless. I have grown nonetheless.
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