Poisoned Oak

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Born with a noose around their heart,

The taller they grew, the tighter it pulled.

But they were just them, and the World was worse off,

So they carved on a glorious smile

And danced with a faux heart; a shadow painted red.

And their heart grew around the rope like a tree strangled by ivy,

And became morphed and disfigured

Until the ugliness inside them matched the Monster in the mirror.

And their life was perfect. After all, they'd tied these knots themself.

Reaching out with one arm, while clawing it back with the other

Until watching the fissures close no longer whispered ‘healing’,

But instead only screamed 'broken’.

And every minute a war was waged and lost,

And they thought their body must collapse.

How could it outlast their heart by so much?

Hadn't it heard that the earth had become dry and cracked

And its roots had rotten away?

Or maybe it wasn't listening either.

And it never got better, and the clouds came and went

And even the sun was dull.

So they stood in the rain until their knees buckled,

And sank down, tarnishing the golden chain-links

That tethered the World to their ankles,

And became numb to the pain staining the path,

As they crawled rather than drag it down with them.            

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