This story must not be written for me

No. No. not for me.

Not for me to tell

Not for me to decipher the twisted glances at the unseen truth

Not for me to hold the upstanding citizen

Quivering like a child at its first chance alone.

I Bury myself up

Tuck my chin beneath the sheets

Beneath the very sheets that touched our skin

Bury me beneath the tired old tree.

But do not leave me there

Bending there I pray before

Screaming “save me, save me”

But like a tree lonely in a forest

You forgot me.