Birchwood

Birchwood

Breaking down

like Birchwood,

the feelings

of a foggy day

sends shivers

down my spine.

 

Eating the leftovers

of life,

not quite the way

I expected this

to be.

 

Anxious.

 

Stripping down

to the nuts and bolts

of it all,

angry;

the pit-bull and the

butterfly.

 

And I did not ask

for any of this.

 

But I will take

what I can get.

 

If anything at all.