the scratches on her legs grow deeper and deeper
they tell of a tall growing tree
with fruits of plenty, feeding the girl with sweet daydreams
they feather her wings as she is thurst up, free
but one must take account for gravity
earth provides ground for our feet
earth defogs the haze of our dreamy lenses
the fruit falls and gashses free its meat
the ants swarm the juicy sweetness and take it for their own
the sun's blaze rots the girl's golden honey
the skin wilts in the dusty air
and the girl laughs until it feels funny
she waits for fruit falling just for her
because the branches that lifted her have aged and fallen
but fruit falls to the ungrateful vermins
and they taunt her with their singing calling
she's starving, her arms are frail and bony
she falls on the roots of the sprawling giant
she asks for its branches, its wood, its shade
but it whispers that their needs are more compliant
she begs for just a scrap or protection from the fire
but it turns her away for the termites
she feels the sweetness draining from her veins
and the daydreams being outshone by a violent light
her screams stifle her throught and set her dreams ablaze
and she takes the axe out of the anger she forbade
but she remembers the sweetness of the fruit she will never taste
as she falls from the sweet splinters, she lets herself succumb to the blade