![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
You grew me on the land
like one of your fruit trees.
And I became used to heavy pruning,
to rain, snow, and animals, too.
I had some toys and books and pets
But they were leaves who left.
They were firewood. They fed your flames,
They were weeds and you yanked them.
But all that ash and all those soft furry corpses,
The ones I dared not love,
Buried deep and nourished my roots.
Grew me twisted and gnarled
but not without sweet fruit.
like one of your fruit trees.
And I became used to heavy pruning,
to rain, snow, and animals, too.
I had some toys and books and pets
But they were leaves who left.
They were firewood. They fed your flames,
They were weeds and you yanked them.
But all that ash and all those soft furry corpses,
The ones I dared not love,
Buried deep and nourished my roots.
Grew me twisted and gnarled
but not without sweet fruit.
