Roots (By Cat Matchuk)
In the middle of a headache
I imagine my nerves are the roots of a tree.
They are electric
They can be ripped out from the dirt, and
spill my body.
In the middle of this chaos
I pretend I’m floating in the ocean.
I’m weightless, the water will
pull me down.
In the silence of the night’s sky
I imagine the brightest star.
It guides the way for the lost wanderers,
to let go.
Nursing the white-hot pain of my nerves
I imagine being ripped away,
Then I imagine the roots of the tree,
They are strong,
I can tear down stone.