transplanting

Show, don’t tell
THAT is how you build
a usable product
a trusting relationship

I hear words come
from your mouth:
“I would do ANYTHING”

An action is worth 1,000 words
Your words ring hollow
lacking a depth of understanding

I know it doesn’t feel
like it to you
The way I show my love now
is by taking care of myself
getting to know my Self
and that means
distance from you

Show me that you love me
Show me through active listening
Show me through your own vulnerability
Show me through validation
of my lived experience
Show me by thanking me for
   simply. showing. up.
The more ways I think of
for you to show me your love
The more I come to realize
that this is an unattainable dream

I want to accept the reality
that you couldn’t then
and you still can’t
give me the parental love I need(ed)

How do I turn the small bit
of hope into grief
that I may fully mourn,
even while you are still here?
let the tears of my loss
water the strawberries in my backyard

How do I finish transplanting my roots
which had been so firmly planted
in toxic soil?

Pulling each one
gently shaking them out
some roots break off
others remain,
ready to settle in new dirt

Now here I am,
replanted in the sunshine,
dried bits of hurt
cling to me;
as I take root in the fresh compost
they begin to be absorbed.
All I can do is water the plant,
visit it and care for it
wait for new growth
wait until my stalk no longer misses
the poisonous past from which it came

No amount of willing myself
to move forward
to move through
will bring more comfort than
the simple and impossible task
of waiting