Tree Hugger

The first thing I ever wrote that isn't a short story.

I stayed up all night; wanting her to come home.
I turned out the light; disconnected the phone.
I cried my heart to the moon; it sung back to my soul.
I guess they weren’t lying; she is a rolling stone.
Things won’t be alright; I’m already alone.
Sleep deprivation, hallucination.
I pulled open my eyes; to see a long, dark road.
I walked for a while; found a tree I could hold.
A hundred feet high; loved me more than she could.
Beneath it I’d lie; talking tears to the cold.
Now it’s mine, all mine; standing naked and old.
Insemination, fertilization.
It is here that I died; it is here that I mold.
The tree stays alive; my body’s been sold.
Some people walk by; some stories are told.
An old man cries; about the things that he knows.
And the tree in the sky; has nowhere to go.