I am no tree

My skin’s a wasteland

Too hard for anything to grow

Too toxic for a slug to call it home

I am a person so I am guilty

When you throw a rock at me, it bounces back

And the bruises will heal

And neither me nor the rock will be changed

It’s static

It means that

No spider will ever want to live inside the crook of my elbow

Because my blood rushes, can’t be still

I am no tree

So I want to bury myself under pavement tiles, under grasspoles, drown when its raining

Feel the consequences before they leave a mark

I don’t want everyone to see me, 

Just the people I choose

But I can’t make that choice anymore

I made it ten years ago

Because I thought my skin’s a wasteland

And so it is