i like to run where the wild grass grows
up to my knees
i like to play where the brook likes to talk
the water is cold splashing on my feet
i like to dance where the cicadas sing
the loud stirring noise gives me wings
i like to climb that strong, sturdy oak
i like to tie that thick, sturdy rope
i like to place it around my neck
tease with fate
but snap
i jump
i fall
i hear the wind call
i see the clouds cry
the tears from the sky
mingle with mine
maybe they're friends?
i see my mother run
my father scream
the cars they make that awful ring
they flash to bright
and drown out the stars
drown out the songs
drown out my scars
i watch from afar
as my father drowns in alcohol
whilst my mother just drowns in sorrow
i follow them as they pace
they walk with weight to my resting place
to the place where the strong oak lives
to the place where the cicadas sing
to the place where the brook babbles
to the place where the wild grass grows
no longer to knees
and now in my face.
