I fear making solid connections with a community when I so desperately do not want to be tied to any one location.
They all fade, wilt, and die all the same
And as long as I’m stuck in a space where all I want to do is run
I’ll never be able to water a garden, not when I can barely take a few houseplants with me.
Everything falls apart if you don’t stay rooted.
And my roots are weak, I blow over in the storm and move on to the next space
And when I’m planted firm in the ground I wilt
And I cry for the wind despite hating the storm.
How can I be mycorrhizal with love when I cannot stay in the soil?
Life is so meaningless, and my need to find safety, my need to keep moving has barricaded me from ever building the meaningful connections I need to thrive.
I cannot put roots down, as for if I stay put the men with axes will come and chop me to the earth with deft hands
And all that I had built would be in vain either way.
And the rings of my stump would be ground down, no less painless than never letting my sapling take root to grow into the tree to be felled
I hate the mirror, the rude awakening no one cares enough to save me
I keep waking up someplace new, I never grow, I just fade, stunted
And even if I save myself, life will be long and hollow, stunted
And I’m a vampire now, no matter how long I look I can’t see myself in the mirror anymore
I’ve stopped aging, I’m starving for blood that’s not mine, stunted
It’s not as effortless as it was, or maybe it was never this effortless at all
I've been ground down like an ink stone with no more to give
September turns to October and it leaves you a husk of man with a fruitless harvest
All the rain in the world doesn’t feel like the rain in New Jersey
Let me sleep in my old rib cage I’ve excavated from my once healthy flesh.
I’m a ghost on the train moving towards my location