Their indelible taint has

marked me. It was a type of

primitive tattoo, you understand?

I was theirs. They were here.

So on and so forth.

As if I were a tree to carve...

They pressed onward, never feeling the thorns

dragging across their skin.

The stifling heat did not slow them

And the lingering darkness did not blind them.

They were relentless.

It was those who came before you,

scarring me while they depleted me.

I was left bitter and somewhat broken,

Wanting of water and solace but unable

to sustain myself.

So I slept.

And I dreamed you were the first.