I've got some deep rooted trauma, that comes from the ground.
Dried leaves, sour fruits and buried deep roots.
I'm no longer growing, I've come accustomed to the sound.
Suffocating, overbearing.
Shading. —my leaves are no longer a lush green,
they're brown.
Where are my yellow fruits?
You said you wanted me to grow, but just when I am,
you cut off parts of me so, I won't.
I stay here forever buried in the ground.
I thought I was a lemon tree?
At least, I remember when I used to be..
But you should know best,
I'm sour at the roots, not the fruit.
Stopping picking off parts of me that I grew myself,
when the deep rooted trauma.
I got that all from you.
~k.w.a.v
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I posted this to my Instagram— check it out if you'd like, it's k.w.a.v_p.o.e.t.r.y
This is just what it says. I've got some deep rooted trauma.
Sour roots.
YOU ARE READING
~Unspoken mess~
PoetryI write poems/poetry and just some thoughts that I have. I hope you enjoy them or feel emotions though them. .. My emotions are always all over the place. So you might read some poems that are really happy but then right after you might read one t...
