Roots
Dear You Know Who You Are,
I was little,
Too weak for my own good.
You made sure I knew it too.
I was a flower,
Frostbitten by a cold world.
You crumbled my fragility
With your strong, ruthless hands.
Year after year,
I regrew
Only to face an icy deterioration.
You constantly broke me down to my roots
And I loathed you for ruining what I perceived as growth.
But the destruction made me realize
That maybe it’d be better to be a tree,
With a wall of bark to protect the rings I would acquire as I matured.
So you destroyed that delicate bloom one last time
And I evolved.
You constantly broke me down to my roots,
In hopes that I would adapt.
You constantly broke me down to my roots,
Because you loved me.
I see that now,
Now that I am something capable of weathering a cruel winter.
You constantly broke me down to my roots,
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
-M.