Roots.

Roots are something that have always terrified me.

I planted one time.

I committed once.

I went all in for life.

It fell apart.

It broke my soul.

It changed me.

Roots became the enemy.

Roots became a vial word.

Roots became the cancer I never wanted to be diagnosed with.

I pitied those that had them.

I felt sorry for the ones that never ventured out of their hometown.

I wondered how they had ever lived their whole life in one place and not ached for the unknown.

Roots are quite magical.

Roots are healing.

Roots are a sanctuary.

Roots require vulnerability.

Roots are something I never dreamed I would have or want.

Here I am dreaming and wanting.