( CYCLE : STIGMA OUR SOULS )
I hang my anxiety on the trees
Let it and my despair sway in wind
Let sound of branches soothe my heart
Let calm me murmur of resinous juices
Wandering inside the trunks
I lean on trunk as my closest friend
This of old willow white trunk
I hug him and he lets me cry
And the other friend, the wind
Dries my tears mercifully
And hums to me lulaby
The one who chased me
And wanted to hurt
Won’t find me here
I can’t call anyone
Who he is
He is a madman
( April 17, 2024 )
