I planted a seed once, unknowingly.
It was rather dropped in my body, the way a simple acorn falls to the ground — then becomes a tree. It was fantasy-like, in the way that it grew while i was barely aware of it’s existence at all. It’s the only seed that grew in the pit of me. It was tightly coiled up taking over my heart faster than I could prepare for. It climbed like ivy into my throat. Straining my voice, controlling my words. It clogged my ears with miles of mini sprouts and vines. The plant grew in the metallic rainbow of my inner eye.. i lost my vision.
My anger and resentment hacked away vigorously at the new growth, trimming it down to thin stem, by which seemed to fertilize and allow it to grow in a new direction. It came back strong every season, adapting to every condition. A parasite that watered itself with secreted tears as it turned on my ducts like faucets at it’s own convenience.
It rolled up the blinds that covered my eyes to let the sunshine in, just enough to gain energy through my temporary happiness. As if it was allowing me a privilege, I thanked it for being so gracious to me. The way you might thank your abductor for not raping or beating you for the day.