Untitled Poem by Aaron Fuchs

I have run away to this place,
surrounded by pine trees standing tall
among fallen, rotting comrades
with fingers of sunlight blindly wandering in between trunks,
weaving in and out of branches.
A breathing break and I'm off again,
passing by trees that have been here since forever started.
I feel exactly like them.
I bet they wish they could get up and leave;
leave this forest, leave behind
the list of dead friends,
the ones that are still alive, too.
Just like I'm running in the opposite direcion
of everything I hate and everything I have ever loved.
Straight into god knows what,
straight into..
straight into those fingers of light.
Please, god, Captain.
Beam me up.