Life itself is a dead forest full of crooked trees, where straight ones are chopped down, making the crooked ones believe they are still alive. Sometimes I ask myself, “What happened to make me like this?” But then I remember, I’ve always been bitter and cold.
Sometimes dead trees start to think they can grow new life, but then they wake up and realize they have been listening to the cat in the hallway for too long & need to snap back into reality….
What happens to the crooked trees to make them so bitter? Where do all the twists & scars & bruises & marks come from? Maybe they are in a way trying to convince one another that everything will be fixed; they will once again come back to life; grow stems, leaves, branches. Then fall and winter will come again & their leaves will die again, but they’re already dead. What beautiful trees ever come back to life?
There was once a small girl that made a rope swing on one of these trees. She would spend hours out in the woods singing, swinging & was able to forget what lies within. She just stayed outside. One day, seven years later, she disappeared and nobody knew what had happened to her.
Everybody thought she was a happy little girl, and she was, but that day a man walked into the woods and told her to come to Wonderland with him, and she was never seen again.