#i was just sort of getting some bad vibes i feel like

[organic-bloodbath]

Can you do a part three for Teach Ddakji to me plz

Teach Ddakji to me - Part 3

The Salesman x American!Reader

Summary: A stranger leads you towards unfolding the secrets of the man you've fallen in love with.

A/N: My people has been begging and i shall serve. Once again, i do not know what the hell i'm writing so i'm just vibing.

Part 1 - Part 2

♡♡

"I can explain," he said, putting the glasses and bottle on a side table. You kept holding the gun with your fingers.

"Yes?"

"It's only for protection, i promise," he insisted. "And it's not loaded."

You were silent, not sure exactly what to do or say.

He sighed. "When my dad was shot, i sort of got a gun to feel safer. He was killed in his own home, so getting a gun meant i could defend myself if anyone came here and tried to harm me as well."

You looked at him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.

"I haven't used it, i swear," he promised, taking a step closer to you. You let out a sigh.

"Okay," you mumbled and shook your head. "Well, okay, i suppose."

He slowly put his hand on yours, grabbing the gun from your hold. You eventually let go of it and let him have it back.

"I can take it elsewhere if you're more comfortable then," he offered, afraid this was going to scare you away. You nodded and he went to take it to another room where you wouldn't have any business walking into.

You had never been a fan of guns. You knew people in the U.S. who had a gun at their homes but your family had never been one of those, as far as you were aware of.

You did feel bad and had sympathy for him the longer you thought about it. You couldn't imagine how bad trauma you would have if your own father was murdered, you didn't think you would be able to live anymore. You couldn't blame him for having sleepless nights and afraid for his own safety after that.

To be honest, if that happened to you, you would have gotten some sort of weapon into your home too, just in case someone would come after you too.

Soon he came back, a nervous look on his face now when he approached you slowly.

"Hopefully that didn't ruin the night?" he asked carefully and stepped in front of you.

"Do you have others in your house?" you asked. "Or like, anywhere?"

"That's the only one," he immediately swore.

He put his hand on your cheek and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His warm touch always managed to relax and calm you down, forget all the worries in the world for a moment. He looked at you with all his love and kindness in his eyes, and you knew you could trust him.

"Let's grab the wine, hm?"

"Okay."

♡♡

He was meant to keep his work a secret from you. You couldn't find out about what he really did, no. You would instantly leave him, that was for sure, and he didn't want to think about that possibility. He only had to come up with more and more lies - but for how long? How long could he really keep up this facade around you? He had turned his back away from you for only one moment at his house and you already managed to find one of his guns.

Or would you leave him? Would you be okay with it after all? It would be so much easier to be able to explain everything to you. But he also knew he had to keep the games secret from any outsiders who wouldn't take a part in the game.

The look on your face haunted his mind the next day as well. You had looked at him in a way like you didn't know who you were dating after all.

And for the most parts, you didn't.

The look on your face had told him loud enough that he couldn't tell you about his true self – not now or in a long time.

Along with that, he had felt someone watching him outside. He wasn't sure who it could be, but he was certain that he was being followed by someone and he didn't like that feeling at all.

He had to find out who was trying to shadow him.

♡♡

The three of you were supposed to go for a dinner together soon, but your brother had to cancel last minute and changed the plans for tomorrow, making you frustrated.

"I'm so sorry, something came up," he had texted. "Let's meet up tomorrow, okay?"

There was always something that 'came up' when you tried to make plans with him. You tried to question what he meant but he wouldn't tell you, preferring to stay all secretive to his sister.

As you were driving home in the car your friend had borrowed you to use for a week, you were falling into your thoughts a little too hard, not paying as much attention to your surroundings as a good and responsible driver should have. Sooner than you realised, you were stopped by a traffic cop and had to pull over.

You saw a man look at you through the window, motioning you to roll your window down.

He said something in Korean to you which you couldn't really understand. He switched to English as he figured you were a foreigner.

"License, please?"

You grabbed it from your purse and handed it to the man.

"You were speeding a little," he stated.

"I know, i'm really sorry, i wasn't thinking."

"I'll have to write you a ticket, miss," he said seriously.

"I know," you sighed and closed your eyes, laying your forehead against your hand. "I really am sorry, i didn't mean to."

"Are you feeling alright?" the cop asked, a hint of worry in his voice – but only a little bit.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem."

Truth to be told, you weren't entirely fine. You had slept only couple of hours and had drank almost an entire a bottle of wine last night. You weren't really hangover right now, just suffered from a bad headache, for which a painkiller hadn't helped.

"Are you sure you're able to drive further?" he tried to confirm, unsure if he should just let you go with the ticket without questioning you further.

"I'm sure," you said but didn't sound believable even to your own ears.

"Could you step out of the car, please?"

You let out a deep breath and opened the door, stepping outside. He stood right in front of you, trapping you between himself and the car. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket.

"Follow the light with your eyes."

You did as you were told, trying to act as cool as possible. You had been only once before pulled over on the road by a cop and that had been in America. You hadn't been sure if the protocols in Korea would be the same.

He turned the flashlight off and put it back into his pocket.

"Alright, you can go now," he nodded. Thank god he didn't actually believe you had been drunk driving.

Looking at his face closer, you could see that he was young and very handsome. If you weren't in a relationship and would have met him somewhere more... relaxed environment, you could imagine yourself starting a nice chat with him.

"Thank you, officer," you said politely in Korean before stepping back into the driver's seat, slipping the ticket into your purse. You tried to make atleast a little better impression with your poor Korean skills but weren't sure how correct the pronunciation really was.

"Have a good day, miss. And do pay your ticket on time."

♡♡

"Had a fun and eventful night with your man, i hope?" your roommate asked, one eyebrow up and teeth biting her lip to hide her smirk, failing on the simple task.

"Sure did," you answered and managed to make yourself smile. You wouldn't mention the gun part of the night to her, trying to brush the entire thing off your mind. "How about you? Found a hot guy at the club?"

"Oh, i definitely did," she answered. "He's some sort of a rapper, i think, though i had never heard of him. He gave me his phone number if we should catch up again some other day."

"Mhm, he gonna take you on a date?"

"Oh god no, all i want is to get into a bed with him again. He knows what he's doing," she stated seriously. "Besides, romantically i'm into more mature men, like that your hottie. Unfortunately you can't really find those men at the clubs where people our age go to."

Your roommate had met him a few times, but rather quickly, they hadn't had the chance to actually get to know each other since you didn't really bring him inside your apartment longer than a few minutes when he would come pick you up or bring you back home. But when he had met your roommate, he had acted as the most charming version of himself, like a man would act around a girl's parents when he'd meet them for the first time.

♡♡

"Okay, darling, i need to go to work for a few hours now to settle a few things," he said later that day as you were walking on the street together, his hand holding yours. He leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

"Come pick me up afterwards?" you asked with a smile.

"Of course, see you then," he smiled, pressing one more kiss on your lips, and turned his back to you, disappearing behind the next corner.

You took your phone from your pocket and was browsing a song on Spotify to listen to, until a man stopped you, stepping in front of you.

"Excuse me," the man said, making you turn around to face him. "You were with a man just a moment ago, dressed in a suit, right?"

"Um," you started, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's this about?"

"You were with a man in a suit?"

"Yes, but i-"

"Listen, i really need to find him. He's uh... a colleague of mine," he explained. "And i need to see him as soon as possible."

"Why do you need to see him?"

"We have some business to do. Work related," he quickly answered.

"Don't you have his phone number? Work phone or something?"

"I got a new phone and lost it."

"Just call to your workplace, maybe they can-"

"I don't have the time right now," he said, startling you with the tone of his voice. He noticed it and lowered his voice a little, not meaning to freak you out. "Could you just point the way, please?"

"Well, he didn't really say where he was going. Only that he had to go to work. Can't you meet him there?"

You narrowed your eyes, you could tell he acted very suspiciously. Did this man really know him? He had sounded so hesitant when telling how he knew him. Usually you weren't able to tell very easily when someone was lying to you, but right now even you could tell his behavior and reactions were too odd.

Besides, this guy was complete opposite than the man you knew, by the looks of him atleast. If they worked together and were on their way to work, you'd imagine this stranger would wear a suit too or something similar and cleaner.

♡♡

Gi-hun could tell that you were completely oblivious about the Recruiter or otherwise you were just a good actress to hide his secrets, refusing to tell his location. But you had looked completely lost with Gi-hun's approach to you and the talk about the man's work.

To be fair, he did probably look like a crazy person so he couldn't exactly blame you for not giving the information he so desperately needed.

Gi-hun hadn't thought about the Recruiter's private life, of course not, so it was strange to see a woman kiss him and hold his hand. He always seemed like only a pawn in this sick game to other people, since Gi-hun didn't even know his name either. The Recruiter always wore that same suit too, he felt like some sort of a default character in a game who had no proper development.

Which he basically was.

Gi-hun had lost his contact to the men he had hired to track down this man, until finally, his phone rang again.

♡♡

Of course you had grown too curious and suspicious about this stranger that you had to follow him wherever he was going.

Was it a good idea? Probably not, but you were still going to do it. It slowly started to rain, and of course you didn't carry an umbrella with you.

The man got a phone call, but you couldn't fully understand what he was saying since he spoke in Korean. You had studied Korean the best you could during the months you had been here and a little before you left America, but you couldn't translate complete conversations in your mind in just a few seconds. But you could hear some familiar words in the man's speech here and there. You could have probably understood more if he talked more slowly.

Where?

What?

Hotel?

Four?

The tone of his voice sounded panicked and rushed too, even more making you curious.

After a while he finished the call and put his phone back into his pocket. He started walking fast around the corner, soon starting to move faster and faster.

You quickly ran after him. You tried to make sure that he wouldn't see you if he happened to glance back over his shoulder, but you also couldn't lose the sight of him. You weren't exactly the fastest runner and would be out of breath soon, but luckily the distance to the destination wasn't too large.

Eventually, you ended up by a building, a hotel or hostel of some sorts. He went to the back of the building through a side alley, not entering through the front doors, which seemed to be locked by chains.

When you entered the hotel inside, you had lost the man, but you knew for sure that he had arrived here as well, right before you, so he couldn't be very far.

There was nobody else around, the place was totally empty, most of the lights were out and there were no sounds around you, forcing you to tiptoe even quieter not to make yourself known to anyone else possibly here. You didn't want a guard to find you trespassing, if there was one.

You started walking up the stairs, slowly and as quietly as possible, heart racing so fast you were afraid someone could hear it if they stood too close to you. You unintentionally held your breath as well out of this thick suspense what was going on.

Maybe this was completely unrelated to the man you loved. Maybe something else had come up with him and you were following a stranger somewhere private like a creep. Would this end up being a trap of some sorts?

Then, you heard speech somewhere in the fourth floor and walked towards the noise with even slower steps.

You were approaching one of the rooms where you heard two men talking to each other now much more clearly – the walls of this building seemed to be as thin as paper, since you had heard them already further away.

But then you noticed that the door wasn't closed, so you could easily open it without a sound and peek inside the room.

Two men were sitting at a table on the opposite sides, facing each other. It was that same man who had stopped you on the street. Your eyes widened on what you were witnessing right now.

He had a gun in his hand. It wasn't the same revolver which you had seen in his house.

"I used to work at the game too," he explained to the man with a calm voice. "Clearing and burning countless of bodies of people like you. I remember thinking: 'These things aren't human. They're just trash, they have no purpose in this world.' That's what i kept telling myself for a few years. One day they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence." He leaned back in his chair. "I don't know what year it was, but there was a man who lost, and i went over to shoot him. I recognised his face. Guess who it was?" He now leaned towards the man opposite him, his voice turning into a mere whisper, and you weren't sure if you heard it correctly or just imagined it. "My dad." You noticed a small smile lingering on his lips. "I was pointing the weapon at my very own father. And he begged me, tears in his eyes, to spare his life. You know what i did?" In under a second he lifted the gun and pointed it right towards the other man's face, who didn't even flinch. "I shot him right in the middle of his forehead and i realised: 'Huh, i guess i really am good at this'."

Your blood ran cold and all you wanted to do was to run away, but your legs refused to move at all. They shared a few more words but you couldn't concentrate on their conversation anymore. You felt like you weren't able to breathe. The ground beneath your feet was slowly failing you.

The next time you looked towards them, he pressed the gun on the man's forehead again, now actually pulling the trigger, making you slightly jump from the noise.

You were frozen on your place. What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Run away, confront them or call someone for help?

But as he moved the gun towards himself, inserting the gun deep inside his mouth, a playful smirk on his face, you had to act.

You tried to say something as you stepped towards the table from the shadows, finally able to make yourself move before he would be able to pull the trigger, but you couldn't get a word out of your mouth.

He let the gun slowly fall out of his mouth and his entire face turned pale like a ghost as he realised who had joined their little game. When his eyes met yours, you noticed something red on his cheek, and you instantly thought of it being someone else's blood, the same red splattered on the collar of his white shirt.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

This was the man who you had fallen in love with. A man who took you on sweet dates, took you into his warm embrace as you slept with him in the same bed, kissed you both softly and with passion... a man who opened up to you about his father's death and how someone had murdered him coldblood.

The murderer had been him all along. How could you be so naive and dumb? Had there been red flags which you had just missed?

Other than the damn gun at his house.

But now there sat only a man just couple of metres away from you who had just confessed on shooting his own father with his own gun. Pulling the trigger himself. And he had told it with a smile on his face.

He had lied to you this entire time. You wanted to shout and yell at him, then run away, but you couldn't move your body. Until he stood up.

Instantly, without hesitation you took a step back as he took one towards you, which made his heart break.

♡♡

A/N: I'm not sorry about the ending 🙂‍↔️ the last scene is obviously not 100% accurate to the show. Next part will take a while too so be patient with me 🫶🏻 if you want to be added or stay on the taglist, lmk.

Tags:

@k1ra-park3r

@aftersnrise

@sakurayashiro

@zmbiefiend

@preppyfella

[starlene]

Anne of the Island Book Club: Chapter 14

Okaaaay.

Faced with Ruby's dying fears, Anne feels "it was difficult for [her] to speak to any one of the deepest thoughts of her heart" – but even so, she deals with Ruby better than I think many professional therapists or theologians would.

Maybe it's because I've always been of the socially awkward sort myself and thus I cannot understand how anyone as young as Anne here can be anything but a fumbling mess with other people, let alone in a literal life-and-death situation... but even if I disregard that knee-jerk reaction, I feel like for a 19-year-old who gets upset when people post constructive criticism in her Wattpad comments, Anne is unrealistically good with people.

We've already seen she's brilliant with children (or at least, brilliant with Davy), and now, she's also brilliant with the dying. I mean, good for Ruby, it's great that she can have this conversation and pass away peacefully – but yeah, I just kinda feel like Anne is exhibiting quite a lot more wisdom and/or people skills here than you'd expect of someone of her age.

~

I also want to say that I think the part where Anne thinks about Ruby's attitude towards life, "She had laid up her treasures on earth only; she had lived solely for the little things of life" etc., is a bit... uuuuggghhhh.

In my mind, no matter how religious you are, a 19-year-old dying of an incurable disease is a tragedy, and said dying 19-year-old feeling upset about it is not indicative of some kind of a character flaw.

Ruby expresses sorrow that she'll never get the chance to be a wife and a mother. I don't know, I'm neither religious nor do I dream of becoming either of those things myself – but I feel like having to give up your dream of having a family because you're dying at 19 is always awful, no matter whether you've been a hopeless flirt all your life or an extra pious model Christian. The narrative paints Ruby as unreasonable here, which I think is incredibly unfair.

Oh well. It is what it is; I guess some ways, this book is simply very much a product of its time.

~

Anyway, I don't think this chapter is all bad, it's just incredibly heavy-handed when it comes to delivering the moral of the story. I've always found the description of Ruby dying touching, I think "And, while light feet danced and bright eyes laughed and merry tongues chattered, there came a summons to a soul in Avonlea that might not be disregarded or evaded" is a beautiful way of putting it.

I'm from a culture where open-casket funerals are not a common thing, so a a child, and to some extent even know, Ruby in an open casket and especially Avonleans talking of the sight of her for years afterwards (!) feels macabre to me. Macabre, and just plain weird.

"Ruby Gillis was the handsomest corpse she ever laid eyes on" – who says that!! I mean, yeah, Mrs. Lynde does – but really? The handsomest corpse?? Maybe it's just a culture difference, or maybe Mrs. Lynde is overstepping some boundaries here even in the original context, but to me, that feels like such a disrespectful thing to say it's making my skin crawl.

~

In any case, I think it was an especially interesting experience to reread this chapter an adult.

As a nine-year-old, I think I just read through this thinking, uh-huh, makes sense, if you're pretty but not intelligent in life then death will fix that, yeah.

Nowadays, I vibe with Diana feeling uncomfortable at the end of the chapter. You and me both, girl. You and me both.

[125storejuice]

.

[box953]

I have a very. Specific thought about where Jacobi ends up post canon. I want him to like disappear for a month and then show back up out of nowhere and decide to couch surf at Minkowski’s place entirely uninvited.

[daisyachain]

The nature of time is that (culturally) Christian Euro/Anglo colonial consumers (hereafter white ‘people’) fetishize the idea of being ‘close to nature’ or ‘primitive’ or ‘savage’ and latch on to the idea that there are groups of people in the world who are somehow bestial or who have some kind of special powers from holding animist beliefs/beliefs that acknowledge the body as opposed to the Christian belief that the body is a kind of useless appendage to a person. We see this across decades from the 19thC to today in the racist fetishization of indigenous people across the globe, particularly residents of the Americas, Australasia, and southern/eastern Africa.

White consumers use a warped conception of other cultures to live out the fantasies that the Christian soul/body stuff engenders. You keep getting told that your emotions and physical sensations are the devil’s work? You want to get in touch with those physical sensations, but you don’t want it to interfere with your worldview? Simply project them on to a convenient group of people with slightly different conventions from you. Imagine how cool it would be to be 100% physical sensation (especially those pesky violent and/or sexual urges) and no mental burden, then unleash that in a way that causes millions of deaths worldwide via the dehumanization of entire nations of people just trying to live their lives. White consumers love a Proud Warrior Race Guy.

Flash forward to the 2010s, it’s generally considered impolite to spread the same propaganda that justified the genocide and dispossession of many different groups of people. However white culture hasn’t changed that much and normal human activities still need to be explained away to maintain the veneer of white intellectualism that has been used to justify white violence for years and years. You can’t just stomp around and clap your hands and dance badly, you’ve got to project it somewhere else.

But wait! There’s a community of people considered ‘tribal’ and ‘savage’, considered violent and bestial, who were never colonized! It’s…the Norse. Fetishizing early medieval North Sea raiders can’t be cultural appropriation, see, they’re white! It’s not offensive to replace an entire culture with white (male) ideas of what’s cool if that culture is totally unassociated with colonizer stereotypes and is in fact a culture of colonizers!

And that’s my theory on why there are so many Norse-inspired folk bands/video games/tv shows/memes/literally anything in the 2010s. VSaga not counted because that manga has been running since 2003 and is actually well-researched and comes out of a culture with a similar but distinct tradition of racism. The Euro storytelling tendencies of needing some kind of violent avatar have taken on ye anciente Norseman now that people care a little bit about the gallons of blood used to sketch other ethnic stereotypes. Done and dusted. Except the other side is that the fetishization of early medieval Norse culture is literally just white supremacist 101 and a lot of artists don’t step around that nearly as carefully as they should

[fluentisonus]

part of the problem is that a lot of hugo's politics are really well thought out & considered & good but then some of them are like. entirely vibes-based to the point of feeling muddled & inconsistent & even straight up Bad sometimes. which is annoying

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

Me: oh i suddenly have a lot of free time, i can be productive & get silly

also me: vaguely stares into space not doing much of anything besides think about the terror bc it's been one of those weeks (months)

[cosmogyros]

.

[yingren]

“You look like shit, man.”

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS / accepting.

“ that’s bold coming from you. ” might be bold, but it’s not entirely untrue. there are certainly days when ren isn’t at his best - days like this, when everything he’s been avoiding finally catches up to drag him down. the weight on his shoulders is heavy: the persistent lack of sleep, the looming threat of an inevitable headache, the ever-present shadow of the mara festering within him. though he’s been doing better recently, or so he likes to believe, there are still challenges to this slower, unfamiliar rhythm that he continues to wrestle with even now.

irony clings to him every time he’s near the archivist, carving that filthy hollow within him even deeper, a grave he’s unwittingly shaped over the countless years spent in pursuit. the hunter locks eyes with his prey, fleetingly wonders what flesh might taste like between wolfish canines, then shakes the thought loose as if banishing an unwelcome whisper, continuing as though nothing ever happened. over & over again, ren adjusts to this cursed truce he has sworn to uphold. if there is one unyielding truth about him, it is this: ren will honor his word, no matter the recipient or the reason, unflinching even when the stakes run impossibly high. dan heng is safe. not out of affection, but sheer obligation.

predator lies quiet, restrained in the aftermath of past conflicts, sparing its prey. for now.

any other man might wrestle with regret or lingering thoughts about his past choices, especially when faced with someone tied to a shared history as bitter and fractured as theirs. but not ren. the memories that surface are not a wistful montage of lost camaraderie or futile attempts to mend what was broken. instead, they are a relentless bloodbath, a carnage where every body is his own and every spear piercing him is one of his own making - wielded by the reincarnation of the very man to whom it was once dedicated. a grotesque, abhorrent cycle of disgrace and ruin.

ren harbors no grand delusions about his own standing. this isn't about knocking him down a peg, the hunter does not sit atop some imagined throne of superiority, though it might occasionally seem that way. when the mara takes hold, and it strikes hardest when dan heng is the spark, the dynamic shifts. a flicker of irritation crosses his crimson eyes as ren exhales slowly, the weight of the moment palpable. the scales have tipped dramatically since that fateful day, since his relentless pursuit ground to a halt, since dan heng seized the upper hand in every conceivable way. ren is a cursed man, perpetually adding to his own affliction.

“ what do you want ? you come to bother me as if it is a new hobby of yours. unbelievable. surely you are more creative than that. ”

[afniel]

Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.

(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)

[mistfallengw2]

Once again missing a brainstorm buddy on my same wavelength, because bouncing ideas at the wall like I'm playing squash doesn't really work with the idea I had yesterday. It gives me way too much freedom for my own good, so much that there are just at least 2-3 cool options for each decision I could take, but I gotta pick only one each and there's no clear winner T_T Oh the curse of having too many good ideas :')

[waywardsalt]

was going through my blog trying to track down an old post i made talking abt my feelings on jolene and it was. much longer than i remembered it being. and haha yeah i still agree with it. i need to fucking. sort out my feelings on that character and that subplot

[gibbearish]

yknow what bugs me is when ppls criticism of YA media boils down to them just not knowing how teenage crushes work

[13eyond13]

.

[arolesbianism]

So. Sit with me everyone. We agree that we need to stop worshipping a person or media on the sole grounds of being gay right. Can we finally agree that it's not homophobic to criticize gay ppl with large platforms. Can we finally actually learn to think critically abt how these ppl talk abt ppl outside of their immediate identities and to recognize that just because they say they aren't bigoted doesn't mean they aren't. Please.

[fatal-fun]

Why does everything spiral in on itself,

Like a program set to repeat.

The hurt multiplies,

Money is the key to gaining wealth,

A stable home breeds stable mental health.

Who will help the ones who scrap and scream

Their own sweat and blood,

just adding to the sea they drown in.

Who will help the blissfully unaware

When the ghost of sacrifice brushes back their hair.

Its not their fault they never learned,

Eyes sown shut before they ever yearned.

How can we build our fortress of love,

When our obstacles seem sent from above.

The weary will always toil

While the fresh, untouched by any soil

Live a life no one can foil.

Why do the strong gleam in their armor

While the bleeding, with their ragged breath

And even more ragged clothes

Stand fast against a army so dark and brutal.

Shinning metal would wither and dull should it meet such a gaze,

One would believe so.

But the plump and hearty fruit

Born from the strongest root

No, it would not fall first under diseased and desolate conditions.

The withering weeds, trying their best to create their own flowers

Standing resolute on their half rotted base.

No, they wont fall from this onslaught.

But today’s plight,

And tomorrows blunger,

Slowly build, great as thunder.

Surely then when the army marches,

Tramped under uncaring foot they will bleed their last,

The dreams of half opened buds unrealized.

All while the joyous juice of strawberries and lime trees lay unspilled

Surprised by the sudden attack yet still, ever green and growing.

They have fruit to offer the marching men,

Blotches of red, yellow and green catching their eye amongst the wild things.

Their seeds left strewn will only strengthen them come next spring.

Pay no mind to the torn and scattered petals

Surely they had no worth

What are the lives of the silenced

When they cant even afford a hearse.