I am a fortress.
Fervently I fidget with my deadbolt
"Lock that door shut. You'll be safe in here."

Outside a forest stretches
Wind navigating its branches
My hair is matted
Damp
The wind has forgotten it
"No one can find me here. I am safe."

Moss grows between my toes
Embedded under my finger nails
From my attempts to evict it each night.

Who am I hiding from?

The sun reaches one small dusty corner
"Stay away," I snarl, snapping the blinds shut
"The sun is not your friend."

Days pass.
I grow pale
Half moons cradle my eyes

The sun is outside my door
Pacing
Whispers to the wind- "if only she knew we loved her."

Winter arrives.
I collect icicles because they seem familiar
They cut my palms as they melt
I let the moss grow over the wounds

The sun and the wind return
I'm too weak to run from them.

The wind sighs,
"If only she knew she needs us to grow."

I am a heap of bone now. And sinew.
The moss creeps over my eyelids

My breath slows

I return to the forest floor.

If only I had known I was not alone.