Tiny blades of grass impale the Earth straight to my heart. I touch the ground, feel it close to my chest. Intertwined we collide I see myself in every strand. Tall, short cut and slant— they are as green as I’ve ever been. And now they are blue. Endless like the sky, bits of white cloud my eyes. The leaves of grass fall from grace littered, gone with the wind, wisps of hair thorn across my face. Tangled we are together in time me and the hellbent weeds that hold on tight. Wrapping arms in dirt surrounded by barbed-wiring trees, My legs land upright As I stagger to my knees. Deliberately, I stand planted with green-stained hands trailing grime and grit like it’s sweat off of my upper lip. Licking softly the taste of my own medicine, I’m sweet with a hint of summer lemon grass.