Descriptive Essay On My Favorite Tree

1271 Words6 Pages
The smell of trees.

I always liked trees I think maybe I was one in another life, I used to be closer to them, trees and wind and spring and rain, rain runs down the tin roof collects in pools at the bottom ping ping ping raindrops on the glass. They remind me of Benjy. Benjy at the tree after the branch where he moans cries for Damuddy I cry for Quentin Quentin...Quentin.

I tell him help me. Help me Quentin. I say feel my pulse tell me do you feel it beat like I do, do you feel blood rush, tell me you feel the excitement enveloping your body like I do mine. Tell me have you ever felt so alive.

Drop the knife Quentin.

This is not wrong it’s right as rain, rain falling down.down.down…

You went down. Quick as time, your time went too fast for you, for us, you chose to forget, you choose wrong, you choose to forget me not me. I haven’t forgotten you.

I’ve watched my favorite tree sink just like you did, slowly over time not too sudden but somehow abrupt you disappeared entangled in yourself like the roots of my tree the roots of your creation became too heavy for your heart it dropped your soul to the bottom of the water and you didn’t resurface Quentin reminds me
Daughter brother both gone

"What's she doin sittin' over there like that foah?"

The trees outside, glass keeps me from breathing the lungs of the world are just outside, why won’t they open the windows a bit more it would make things smell nice. Outside trees and wind brother and daughter still gone, why won’t you come back? Everyone’s gone.

"Who know? She just sets there all day, mostly, lookin' out th' window every Sunday she gon come o’er here and just stare."

There it is again, the wind brings me trees. I breathe deep.

I think the more I had of it inside me the longer it would stay. It was chilly, but the kind of chilly where it only adds to the warmth inside, and you don't need a jacket because a jacket would only cut off your insides and keep everything out

I wanted the smell to be in every part of me fill me up and make me not me. Like I could inhale and keep breathing until my lungs filled up so much they would make me fly and I would fly far, fly far as I can to find my baby girl

sometimes I wanted to not be me. A compson
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