Vines

Vines

The vines wrap around my legs

I pull out my knife, my small, dainty, insufficient poor excuse for a knife

They squeeze tighter

My heart struggles to keep blood flowing

I reach forward blade in hand, and my hand is twisted

The knife is swallowed into the earth

My back is on the ground held tight

I panic my breathing is shallow

As if all the air in the world slowly runs away from me

I can’t decide whether to give up or fight longer

If this is a hopeless situation or just a challenge

My arms are aching and stiff

All I hear is the thump, thump of my heart in my ears quickly increasing in speed

The thorns pierce into every part of my body like single tiny blades

Another jolt

My feet and ankles are buried deeper and deeper into the ground

I struggle to turn myself around

I dig my fingers into the ground

More vines reach up and I am wrapped tight

I can no longer move my will falters

The Earth consumes me