roots.

a poem about letting go.

Maybe we were meant to meet,
but never meant to be.
Something so inevitable,
like the falling of a tree
in a wood so far,
no one heard its crash,
except for you and me.

And when that day has come to pass,
we must bow and fight it not.
For its time in the sun,
has come and gone.
We must set out
that wood
to the rot.

Decomposed and broken down,
its fate, always to be.
The roots upheaved,
disentangled from earth,
like I must rid your roots
in me.

A video reading of the poem can be found here :)