I speak to the trees about my qualms; knowing they will keep them rooted and hidden from the world above.
I cry with the rain about my dysphoria; so that it's curved drops might cleanse me and wash away any anguish.
I whisper to the burning fire about my desires; so that they may ignite and transform into something unquenchable.
I confide in the wind about my loneliness; so that it might blow someone ontoΒ Β my path so that I would be given a reply to all the things the trees, rain, fire, and wind have heard but could never give me an answer.