a calm step

feel your feet grace the earth's carefully crafted ground, grass twisting and twirling around your ankle, grounding you to the spot.

you pull up the weeds growing on you, annoyed by their insistence.

dirt lies in your stomach, but you pay it no mind.

hear the sounds of nature taunting you with its beauty, enchanting and deadly;

it hopes that you stay, but you never do so. maybe it's because you despise it. or maybe it's because you love it too much to stay.

a seed is watered by the moisture of your lies.

taste the dewdrops forming on your tongue, a mist flavouring, sacred to the trees in front of you.

it reminds you of what could have been, a moment of clarity in a lifetime of fog.

vines grow through your bloodstream.

smell the aromatic scents of the forest, much more real than society could ever fake it to be.

know that the plants below you have it much better than you ever will.

leaves taunt your esophagus.

see the dead branches falling from the trees above, them shedding what is not needed to make room for what is.

how they reach for a god they'll never meet.

a deadly realisation makes its way to your frontal lobe as you cough out bloody flowers on the forest floor.