I don’t existmetal pressed to pagesspilling blood, inkin vein each thought ragesSunlight shootingthrough a forest of pinesblack top windingand yellow dotted linesI am not hereonly a deep aching,a lightning flashand a tree trunk breakingSheets once alive covered in a deep redmark the presentbut I am not yet deadNothing is hereonly the rain and mistfresh air and soilI do not need to exist.
Abby Musgrove
depression, existence, freedom, ideas, life, living, love, manic-depression, pain, poetry, ponderosa-pine-trees, thinking, trees, understanding, writing