think like a twig.

Such a pretty yet sad sight.

Makes me feel like a twig on the ground, preparing for the moment when someone will come stepping on me — end my life.
Just that I won’t have any flashbacks because I am a twig.
Perhaps, I will think back to the time when I was still a part of this huge tree, hanging right there until I could no longer hang on and fall to the ground.
I thought life ended for me, then.
But here I am, facing yet another incoming end.
Maybe I will survive this time, too.

Originally published at fartrainbows.tumblr.com.