I drank the soil, and with it, the sun, water, air, seeds of love and torment. And in me grew a beautiful tree, frayed bark, pruned defects, rooted in hell, reaching to the heavens. My limbs grasp into the darkness to feel for you, for something, instead finding eternity, and breathing it in with a desperation of last gasps by which the meaning of life becomes clear, and the certainty of death becomes my teacher.