deepundergroundpoetry.com
He is, no more
He chuckled as he snapped the buttons from waist to throat. Each fastening echoed though his finger's bones. Pockets on the inside, pockets on the outside, a hood that hid your eyes just right. Cloaked and bundled up, prepared for anything. An extravagant thing, our world. He faced it armed with the heart of a lion. With only his thoughts and dreams to confide in. He took not into consideration, the strength of the sun. And with trembling hands, every button was undone. Throat to waist, his fingernails pinched pink to white. Shedding his shell, slowly offering himself, to the warmth of mother natures light. Inhale my friend, this is life. And with this final sigh, he stripped himself of everything. Lunging though a wood thick in both darkness and foliage, I expected and immediately excepted his inevitable end of existence. His navigating rustles were softening as the distance between us grew like shadows at sundown. Each crunching step hushed to a dull sigh as I began to forget him.
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