Water drips taunting rejuvenation
Moisture collects, causing an expedited decay
A mold grows so thick it blocks the sun from entering
There is no light left in my mind,
Just the silence and stillness of perpetual night
Yearning for a sense of warmth to graze my cheeks-
Lift my cold, hardened heart from above these plains
Nothing but the wind whistling through me-
Flattening itself against my bones and everything else around me
I feel shattered, torn, ripped by the roots and yet I wait here silently to be harvested
He comes early in the morning for us,
The collector of bodies in the field
I can't see him coming, but I hear his footsteps against fallen corn stalks
I smell his copious amount of sweat staining the air around us
He is a poison, come to kill and remove
Today is the day he delivers his load of locally grown corpses
None of us know where we will go
But it will happen; we are already gone, removed,
On the way to decay...
I stand here and wait for the ripping to be mine
I will collapse unwillingly into his arms as he lifts me into his truck bed
My life was created to be farmed,
I was grown here to die
Something I have had almost thirty years to think about