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  • Alana Marzigliano

My End

Your vines wrapped slowly.

I never heard them.

I still do not perceive that pressure.

My twisted, tangled roots

did not always choke,

nor did they beg you to release them.

I grew to resent your presence,

yet I willingly stayed rooted at your side.

You had me so entangled

that my recognition of your restriction

came after my demise.

You enjoyed my rotting.

You were unwanted,

and yet unwavering.

Your beauty was unseen,

and so you stripped me of mine.

In truth,

your wretched wrapping may

have strangled me,

but I chose to shy away

from the sun.

I chose to focus

on the silence

instead of

the pain.

And that silence

occupied my mind

while I began

to decay.



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