Poem by: Cam, the squid
Bombarding roots from a poisonous weed unleashed through the wood floor,
twisting, entangling, and trembling around my ankles.
They tighten, cut the circulation,
thorns stab, bloody my feet.
The roots dug deep, they stop, they keep.
Wondering if I meant anything to you, nothing.
Once again I’m staring back up the mountain, Steep.