when you are born,

you stare up at me in awe, eyes wide,
and i cannot help but love you.

(my child, i think, my offspring)

when you begin to walk steadily on two feet,
i provide for you.
you start to want more and more.

i concede, and offer you what i have.

you start to reign with stone cold fists and i,
i kneel at your feet, head bowed, gold thorns orbiting my scalp.

(i am your savior but you are my god)

you bind me to a boulder and your hungry talons rake against my torso and
i give, i give and give and give-
gizzards and matte intestines and bones bared like tree branches-
but you are never satisfied,
it is never enough.
i clasp hands in prayer, begging, pleading.
you tell me one day more, one more gluttonous helping of my bone marrow,
colored like filthy sludge,
just-
one-
more-

(and we are trapped in a vicious cycle slowly gaining speed downhill but you need me so i-)

one day.
one day i will wheeze and collapse but you will take my ribs and
slice me open and forage around in
my empty corpse but one day.
one day i will be gone forever.

(will you be okay will you be okay will you be- )

for now i am here, hide stretched taut over sharp
cheekbones like axes, ivory limbs missing,
golden elixir weeping from gashes,
but
i
am
here.

(and i try to stay grounded, else we both float away)

i am not whole but i am here for you and
i am your lifeblood, and still i love you so.
my child, you will continue to take and take from
my physical body but my love for you is vast and bottomless and you
are a hungry void.

you ask me why i am called mother nature.
i offer up blood, bones, and tears in response and i pray,
i pray that one day it will be enough for the both of us.