monster

The grass is growing,
Grabbing at my ankles.
Edges frayed,
With sharp and jagged angles.

I tear it from the ground,
But higher still it will surround.

This shroud of green,
My efforts vain and feeble.
And here I was longing for rain,
But now I'm slipping under.
The barren ground a forest now,
The foliage a monster.

I'd run away but it was me
Who dug the holes and dropped the seeds.

The grass is growing,
And soon I'll be devoured.