Roots

Okay, one more cup

and then i stumble home, alone.

I thought i’d shamed myself,

I tasted tears.

I was embarassed.

I wanted to run away,

but I heard, read.

I read.

My head spins sometimes.

I feel calmer now.

Tears are a blessing.

To be deprived is devastation.

I didn’t know I had his rhythm, cadence, and content.

My eyes are blurry.

I can barely make this out.

I keep digging.

The dirt falls back upon me.

Have you ever stood in such a hole?

It’s humbling.

We should all do so before we die.

I didn’t really know my roots before.

When you really need to know,

you go into deep dark

and listen for waters drip dropping

slowly,

heavily,

from stalagtites further in,

forming smooth mountains on the limestone floor.

You imagine they glow, but you forgot your matches.

Silly you.

I can’t talk too much here, but i wish i could whisper.

If I say it beneath my breath, will you know what i’m meaning?