I grew up intertwined within the roots of the Fir trees that litter the ground of this state.
They harbored my juvenile body, naive, and innocent, with safety.
As though they were grown to protect me, observe me.
We grew together, the tree’s soul tied with mine.
As though we were made to conserve each other’s peace.
Within the roots, my soul resides, consumed by the soil, that met the soles of millions of feet.
Traces of strangers absorbed into the dirt as if it never met hydration.
I engrossed myself within the lingering presence of these people, as though I had connected myself with each person who walked atop this dirt.
As if I lived their life a thousand times over, too empathetic for my own good.
I think my soul tied itself to each being in this pocket-size town.
Colliding myself with these people, attaining their attributes,
and entangling them within my lifestyle.
The only perception of myself I’ve known is what I’ve learned from the beings surrounding me.
With hopes only to fulfill the craters carved into my heart.
Now, as a young adolescent yearning to feel like a little girl again,
the trees still engulf me in their branches, and sparse leaves.
They provide me with what security they can spare for my growing body,
ascending from the soil, that I was so deeply engrained into.
Parts of me linger in that soil, deteriorating, fertilizing the trees, sprouting new ones.
I’ve become part of this, precious town.
No matter where my vessel travels, the trees possess the parts of me that I’ve longed to forget, and the fragments of myself that I will cherish.
Parts of me will grow far, far away from this town, and that is when I will mourn the parts of me the trees hold.
In unison, I’ll curate a newfound love for this new, yet familiar person I’ve become.
