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154
The Hanging Tree
<p>Once, there was a boy</p><p>And a girl who felt like oxygen.</p><p>They played under the twisted ribs</p><p>Of the Hanging Tree,</p><p>Spinning, screaming, laughing—</p><p>Not knowing the tree</p><p>Was hungry.</p><p><br/></p><p>Years bled away.</p><p>The boy became a man,</p><p>The girl became his only cure.</p><p>“Meet me at midnight,” he said.</p><p>Beneath the crooked arms</p><p>Of the Hanging Tree.</p><p><br/></p><p>Fog rolled in.</p><p>They kissed like the world was ending.</p><p>“I can’t stay,” he whispered.</p><p>“Tomorrow we’re free.”</p><p>The tree leaned in,</p><p>Listening.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tomorrow came—</p><p>She found him there,</p><p>Eyes blank,</p><p>A rope necklace tight around his throat.</p><p>Her lungs broke with the scream.</p><p>She climbed,</p><p>And let the tree</p><p>Swallow her too.</p><p><br/></p><p>The jealous one arrived,</p><p>Love curdled into rot.</p><p>He saw what he couldn’t own—</p><p>And painted the ground red</p><p>With his last breath.</p><p>The tree drank deep.</p><p><br/></p><p>Now, every midnight,</p><p>Mist wraps the earth like a coffin,</p><p>And their shadows rise.</p><p>They kiss, fast and broken,</p><p>Still tethered</p><p>To the crooked bones</p><p>Of the Hanging Tree.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Are you, are you,</p><p>Coming to meet me?</p><p>Where forever tastes like rope</p><p>And silence sings louder than life.</p><p>I’m waiting, love,</p><p>Beneath the crooked branches</p><p>Of the Hanging Tree.”</p>
The Hanging Tree
By
Bigdan
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Bigdan
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