Eleven

The elixir of life
is for the living
Yet it is I
who is decaying

The blossoming fields and billowing trees
Sway with ease and the patterns of
mistakes
I mistook my place as a branch amongst many
And voided myself of a beautiful bounty

Drained and exhausted,
discarded,
departed,
hung in the sky

I feel my veins become flushed, flustered, and anew
As I realize that living isn’t only for the few
And I realize that living isn’t for another “you”
But the transparent blue that I take for my hue
As I am hung in the sky, conceiving a new life