The Things No One Told Me

I came out into the world completely unprepared and entirely caught off guard.
No one told me I’d need thicker skin, to fight off the weather and the people.
No one told me I’d need to figure things out myself, and that no guidebook could solve my problems.
No one told me that no matter how many years I spent studying, I’d always somehow, in some sort of situation, end up saying “I don’t know.”
No one told me where dead people go.
No one told me every solution would give birth to a problem.
No one told me I’d sometimes feel all alone.
No one even asked me if I WANTED to be here.
No one told me how to handle my fear.
No one told me how to succeed in life.
No one told me the point of it all.
But most importantly, no one told me that after years of living and learning and working so hard, I’d still somehow feel completely unprepared and entirely caught off guard.

Untitled / Hadas

When I was younger I was told we always got a second chance. I was told that mistakes can be corrected and that I can always change my mind.

That flower I tore from the ground and took home, the one I later found out was nearly extinct? I ran all the way back to the garden and tried planting it back. It didn’t work.

Roots (3/5/2013)

The roots wouldn’t fit on the plane so I had to chop them off. I tried my best to not cut off too much. When I looked down from the plane I saw my stump, a small clearing in the center of my forest. I was afraid the others will grow thicker branches and bigger leaves and cover up my spot.

In my new home I am rootless. I dug up a pit and stuck my trunk inside but it simply cannot go deep enough. Here I have no private spot. I didn’t even have time to get planted. They just dropped me in here. The other trees, they tell stories and jokes and they don’t understand why I seem out of place. They cannot tell I have no roots below.

My present is here.

My past is there.

I am a topless stump.

I am a rootless tree.