sometime in early june

it grew like some type of mystical curse from a fantasy script. in origin, all you see is the good. our hero's abilities enhanced and energized through this magical plant. The stem smoothly pale and the bright yellow bursts surrounded by ocean blues. wrapping around the stem he pulls the roots loose and they slowly, but surely slide into his veins. the invigoration now becomes astonishing. but the wincing begins. the foreshadowing we are all to familiar with. the double edged sword shows its full length. the roots are by now, our hero's veins. pumping sap and pines to his heart. it becomes the new way he circulates. now the inital joy and shock of this whole new system, this new way of being clenches and twists, only on occasion, bringing him dramatically to his knees. this repition reveals the cause. by now he's so committed...by now he's coughing up nector. it becomes clear that it has taken him. his heart thinckens and his blood slows cold and he turns solid. in one single moment of actualization, of realization the roots that were once apart have now become him and that becoming has turned finally its true face forward, showing a deep rooted poison guised as a super-soldier-serum. what's worse? the tragedy of burning beauty or. the seperation. the pulling the tearing the hoping the crying, sighing, shying, the hopes of dying. the pines sharpen and the heart skips. its relience planned. like quitting a chemical. a chemical that never leaves.its black roots dangling deep inside knocking on walls and lasting as a shadow. the pain of complete refiguration and mutilation mixed in hope reliance and possibility. these are the poisons of this plant. energy flows withthin its juices side by side, embedded, dancing...razor blades to your insides. the scars of it all... they never leave.