i became a tree

i used to want to become one

I think i have mentioned this before. A musing from the time where i would have less restraint in saying i was young. I wanted to become a tree. The musings flowered and had a poetic nectar to it. It had to.

That’s the most i want from anything always without subtraction - nectar, poetic kind.

But i am just feeling my roots a little too much. Birds came, nested, laid eggs, hatched, left. Many. Branches were cut. I grew them, for i loved the shade under me. It had a soft lulling shape and i watched almost every shrub, weed, moss, bird, animal and all people fall asleep while they were in that shade.

Now i just be and don’t really paint that shade with passionate brush strokes. It relieved me a lot. But i am sort of wondering about killing my roots now. Not that i want wings or anything but i have a boring sadness now.

American Ultra is a movie in which such a tree is mentioned. One that gets hit by a car. But that’s the thing. The movie is not about the tree ans the dude who talks about it, his fear is if he os like the tree.

My problem is i am the tree. Cats have hit me yeah but i think i stood and those who drove also rested and walked away. Well no one had to hang themselves dead on my arms.

Am i a tree that wants to be fell. No i can’t be. Tried by some yeah.