i was too young.
my mind
was a flailing child
unable to ask
why it was crying.
i was a thorny rosebush
blowing in the wind,
a hedgehog
trying to give cuddles.
i will never forget
how you made me feel:
like a violet
wilting in the winter,
like a tornado
barreling towards a house,
like a river
crashing into a dam.
i could never
shake your hand
or look you in the eye.
but my vision is clearer,
and i see now that
you and i came from
the same family of vine,
only you were given
water and sunlight
while i was starved.
how can a kudzu
be blamed for
people allowing it
to grow and suffocate
the forest?
it's hard to put out a fire,
but someday i think i will
be watching my cat roll
around in my backyard
and i'll think about how
bruised and lost you made
me feel, and my next deep
breath won't be any less
perfect.
i don't hate you.
go fuck yourself.