A splinter of burgundy wood wrapped against cobwebs implanted within its edible surface - a self-sacrificed price to being owned, rather than being chopped by squirrels' mediocrity - quivered intrinsically, coagulating a stationary urge to atrophy.
I wrote this intuitively based on picturing wood floor bending and being transmitted within its texture, following a sense of belonging tightly, suffocatingly, needing so to understand why my nature did not seek to be affiliated to anything but myself and my creation.