
you know the clearance plant section?
where the dying green goes
the wilted, the rotted, the barely hanging on
i find myself in front of it every time i go to the store
an urge, a need, to save them
their energy
this wounded, fading pulse of a thing
it reaches out and wraps itself around the cords of my heart
and like a telegram, i feel the vibration of their plea against the very viscera of me
i cannot refuse them
i buy no less than five every single time
and it haunts me when i cannot take them all
when i’m forced to leave a few
it’s tangible when i have to leave many
a cruel and unforgiving twist of chordae and muscle
and i’ve started to wonder
why i feel more pain for roots and stems and leaves
than i do for my own soul’s internal bleeding
am i not also root and stem and leaf?
do i not require water, food, and sunlight?
understanding, kindness, and love?
i am more earth than bone and blood
perhaps if i think myself more tree than human
i’ll finally forgive who i was and what i did to survive
i’ll finally allow myself rest
gentleness, patience, flow
yes, i am root and stem and leaf
i deserve to grow
About the Creator
anmpoetry
sapphic poet with a phd in yearnalism.
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