The Tree he killed us with
He didn’t just carve our names on it
he buried my broken heart in the severed roots
and in the silence I rot
in flesh I am extinct
He said it would grow back
trees do that, he told me
then he packed up my breath
and left it gasping by the shed
The bark flaked like skin after sunburn
his initials peeled first
then mine like dead weight
slid to the dirt, unread and unmissed
He came back once
with someone smaller than me
she laughed too loudly
he showed her the stump
called it old history
I was the echo that followed them home
the cough in his throat he blamed on the cold
I slept in his dreams with a cracked smile
a worm in his apple
a voice in the leaves
The roots reached for nothing
he never came back
but I did
with matches and a bottle
and the wind on my side
No prayers for that tree
no tears for the rings
I watched it collapse
like my voice when I called him
and he didn’t pick up.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (1)
heartbreaking