I was a terrible Boy Scout. Didn’t like camping; couldn’t tie a knot; wasn’t particularly fond of nature’s various monstrosities; didn’t enjoy being repeatedly bullied by my fellow scouts. In other words, this movie was practically biographical. Right down to the murders. Don’t tell my scoutmaster.

Here’s a poem.

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Bark is but a mask
Disguising soft flesh beneath.
Stripped, the tree will bleed.

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