Ty McEvoy

The haunting image of trees loomed over me, judging my every move. He was there, tainted by

sap and scars, amidst the others. Dread rose inside of me like a wildfire. Liquid flame leaked out

of my eyes, burning my flesh and eating away at my face. Somehow, the leaves rustled in the

gentle breeze and carried the briny scent of the ocean right to me. It ruffled through my hair like

a mother would a child. There was a brief pause in the fire’s wrath. The familiar face in the sky

had a warm, milky glow as if the sight of it could become a song in the eyes of anyone willing to

raise their head upward. In fact, it looked more human tonight. The attempt to get that aching

feeling out of my soul was futile. He won’t leave me alone. That’s because he lives here

amongst the poison trees.

For a moment, he almost seemed invisible. He laid in a bed of buttercups, disguised in night’s

despondent blanket. The sinner in me shone like crimson wine. For once, the feeling of revolt

and disgust flooded me as I stood next to the rotting poison tree. I have climbed this tree many

times. Putting one foot after another upon every branch deemed sturdy enough for my own

weight, only to fall consequence to my own poor judgment and the failure my words had in

reaching one’s heart.

Why did I choose the poison tree? Its broken limbs were made of nothing but the past and what

he’s done to me. Memories of branches intertwined around my neck as he held me against my

will. The force was greater than my own; my body became someone else’s. My worthless cries

for help couldn’t save me. Marks were left across my wrists from the scratches. Bruises on my

legs and arms from falling off branch after branch. Hastily, I was wrapped in the autumn leaves

only brought in early October, and with them, the false hope of redemption. But even after the

wounds and cuts that led deep into my body, creating crevasses where my flesh should be, I

continued to climb. And I continued to fall. Leaves fluttered off of my contorted skin, scared of

how reflective my suffering would be. They fell to the ground, only to be swept away by the

nurturing gust of a faint, sorrowful song. In those moments, I had nobody. I pushed words that

shouldn’t be spoken to the tip of my tongue, only to be swallowed back down by a force out of

my control.

For this, the poison tree paid the price.

The tree was hallowed; its roots were dug out and lay bare on the earth. Insects of all kinds

gathered around, ready for their late dinner. Decay started to form, disfiguring the tree I thought

I knew. Karma was looping around the bend, heading into the forest. The tree’s bark sprouted

off of it like wings from a swallowtail. She was coming closer. With that look left in the eyes of

the poison tree, I knew he wanted to fly far away. Trust me, so do I.