CW: Sexual assault/violence
A poem about roots (that constrain me)
Why do you grip that rock there
That place in particular
It is not exceptional yet you sniff
to find the resource jackpot with little thought for my feelings.
One flaking and one green
You are Brand new
colonising my mind and making my forces act through different lines
Where do I lean today
On what soil do I make my stance;
I want to move yet you tell me I can’t
And they look at me funny and it is all due to you
Lost in assumption not to be talked
To but by, they see how I curl and retract
Wishing I could fly but indelibly in contact
with the ground of my past
Each little xylem strand has length running resources
to change and nourish my self.
And I regret you
You are unsatisfactory
For keeping me so still
Retaining my right to freedom.
I wish I could wiggle and dance.
Enact and be my dream
I steal the freedom to be who I want to be
A fairy woman at the end of a long voyage
My narratives an endless strand of silk
to wrap around your neck.
You see you would love the me
That’s exciting and proud and flamboyant
With endless presents and
pockets that bulge
I wiggle my wing rigs
and struggle to see how they care for me
grateful I should be for these life sustaining lines
for time and a past and events I can learn from
They connect me
Brushing up to me with knowledge
Drowning me in memories that
keep me so separate
I am an entity to sustain and condense
Yet not to be.