The woods have not forgotten you

What if I don’t come home?

Alcohol flowing through my veins, maybe I’m still alive,

The cold has left, I’m burning here.

The horrors persist, but at least I’m high.

As I lie in the mud, the Stag approaches me,

He always appears when I’m weak.

“You need to wake up, now. ”

I really hate his clear voice, as if it were pure.

I just say no—and I shove my face into the slush a little more,

Kind of appreciating the freezing cold raindrops on my burnt skin.

A pig is sort of what I am, in the end.

The trees above are so pretty—so tall, too.

Angels of the woods, contemplating us from above.

Are they alive? It would be so nice if they were - why don’t they tell me anything ?

By now, the Stag should know it’s no use talking to me when I get like this,

Still he tries, wastes everyone’s time, wants to make me cry.

“The woods have remembered you since you got lost in them.”

He leans over me, then sniffs my stained clothes,

Moves down to my abdomen, house of the Hollow.

“And I have not forgotten what happened.”

And he says that like he’s sorry, like he means it, but his voice just sounds so empty.

He lies down against me, rests his head on my belly.

For the first time in a long time, I do realize that I breathe—not much, but I do.

And so I watch the Stag’s head rise with every breath I take.

“As much as you like this place, or as much as you think you do, it is not your home. Go back.”

I start to rub his forehead with my fingertips, gently, like you would stroke a cat.

Soft fur.

“I don’t want to.”

And he looks at me with his big soft eyes—as if he really were a prey animal,

All innocent, always ready to die.

“Why?” he whispers.

A pointless question, far too clumsy ; he knows my answer all too well — and so it defeats his very purpose.

Stripped away from his mask, the Stag finally loses all humanity.

From his phony voice to his strange gaze,

Pitch-black eyes that look right into my soul,

He doesn’t need a tongue to speak ; I hear it quite well :

“You shall never forget I bore witness.”