Weeded Out 

Call it whatever makes you feel good 

for turning away from the mess

that I finally grew into. I own it. 

Took me this long to finally fit into 

the misunderstanding of my own eyes 

and the way my heart beats much 

deeper than the surface of a view that 

can change colors when no one’s looking. 

I have never stopped looking. 

But I’m not looking back to twenty years ago. 

I am the twenty years ago. 

And you don’t see it. 

Nobody sees it. 

Have you ever lived a life where time stops 

and never starts again? 

The clock is broken. Calendars blacked out. 

It hurts to stand still 

but the running… the running takes me 

in a circle to the place when the clock 

is still ticking and it’s loud. 

I hear it. It rips through my heart 

like my eardrums are busting open

and the blood in my throat is the wake up 

call that strangles me with the hands 

of time… the hands of you.. the hands of 

  my losses I can’t stop counting. 

How could I not keep count of the blows?

I didn’t have solid footing and I can’t stop 

searching for the roots I was ripped out of. 

I didn’t grow with my feet in the flowers 

and no one looks before they trample 

a field that looks like nothing but weeds. 

So I was weeded out 

to make room for pretty things to grow 

but all this time was the dirt that buried me

and I never died completely. 

I have always been breathing in pieces 

of a future that never waited for me to 

catch up. Not everyone blooms the same. 

 ~Stephanie Bennett-Henry © 2016 

 

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2 thoughts on “Weeded Out 

  1. You wrote this on my birthday and you formulate words the way I wish I could…I want to make a difference in one person’s life….who will it be? I am listening.

    Liked by 1 person

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