The Glade

I wasn’t always like this.
I had a normal childhood,
went to school,
had friends.
But something happened
when I reached adolescence.
I started sprouting things.
Not puberty things.
Other things.

Society abhors strangeness.

I bloom in the sun.
Bees surround me,
gather my pollen.
Deer wander into the glade,
feast on my delicate shoots.

Here in the glade,
I am at home,
feet buried in the soil,
absorbing the nutrients.

Still, the human part of me
craves flesh from time to time.
Hands free to catch unsuspecting insects,
sometimes a rabbit.
Sometimes something much bigger.

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