Cold air blows through the trees
where I was hung,
despair between my eyes,
dark circular holes.
The rustling of the leaves
and people who just leave,
their cloaks and croaks of agony
as they watch me swing.
This type of hurt is like a
angry bee, it stings.
A feast began as my body rocked,
my flesh torn apart by those
sworn to do no such thing.
The warmth radiating off their bodies
as they blocked my hollow face,
watching as they swallow
every piece I had left.
I am no longer a person.
I gave my all and here
is where I ended,
just for people who
would never give
a second thought
about me.