Fear is the root.
If it is the root it will destroy the whole tree, slow decay.
People will say, "such a shame, was a great tree."
You are hollow now...empty, safe.

Echos are the only thing you're filled by. You wince when they bounce around inside you touching parts not meant for anyone else.
You are surrounded by a forest, this forest is bigger and better than you, this forest is more alive, it has parts you can't see, which scares you.

Fear again, you mumble as a branch rips off like it's jumping from a burning building, plummeting into a pile of your expired leaves. No one lives in you anymore, squirrels don't even call you home, no one wants to be around the dying.

How could you have avoided this fate?

One action causes me to stand up, brush the dust off my lap and pick up a brick.

"I thought we were done with this?" I ask myself as I set the brick gently down, before I know it I have built the wall again. "There, there" I pat the wall and feel the resounding heart beat. "You're safe now."

November 30th 2017
Amanda Powell