i talk to you
and you listen patiently
as i unload a ton of bricks
at your feet, all my mounted misery,
and after a while you stop
and speak
and it's then i know
you're the wisest man alive
because you never really lied to me-
that was all my doing.
and you tell me
that i need to grow
just a little,
to let go
of this silly notion in my head,
and i know you're right.
and so today,
today i let go of the rocky dirt
that has bound me to your knees,
i let go of my vines
(i've been a weed, a parasite)
and i stretch out my roots
and turn my face to the Sun,
your light,
because today i start to grow on my own,
a flower,
and hopefully i'll be strong enough to blossom
without a tressle to hold me up,
and maybe someday after i'm bright and vibrant,
someone will pick me above all the rest.
but first i've got to grow my own roots.

~For my beloved Andrew~

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