She was sitting in a tree,
Feeling so damn free.
But something felt wrong,
She knew it all along.

She was leaning against the trunk,
Being rather a wasted drunk.
Her leg swinging in the void,
She was far from paranoid.

On the branch was her leg,
She would never again start to beg.
Her so-called friends starting to leave,
Right before she could attempt and perceive.

She felt lone as a wolf in the forest,
A feeling she knew how to harvest.

© AlaynaCade