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.
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