Everyone is hanging onto me like a leaf. The axe chipping away at my side, but I don’t make a sound. Split my wounds open like the spine of your favorite book. Ring after ring after ring – you keep count like a dare. And I don’t mind- I just watch. Let them tie a rope to my branches and tell myself it’s not a noose. It’s not a noose. It’s not a noose. I only have the power to give, not take, right ? That’s the tricky part about being grounded. Your roots delve past the craters of the earth and once you’re planted- you’re stuck. Draining the sap from my pores because I’m everything but sweet- so make your poison count before the last drop hits your throat. I hope it burns as beautifully as my halo. I’m just changing with the seasons and every season reminds me that the season I’m in should be worth the suffering. Letting go and giving in- everything it means to us as we chop every part of it down and set it on fire. Like it never existed in the first place. The whole thing turns to ashes. -AMT