This Is Where I Have Been

[kerravonsen]

I am a tree
Surfaces rough and uneven
Branches going in uncomfortable directions.
Come, they said, come and play.
But first, you must be frictionless.
So I bonsai-bound my branches
And wrapped myself in plastic
smiles
And came and played.
It was lovely.
They were nice, and friendly, and encouraging
And I liked
being nice, and friendly, and encouraging
back.

They were smooth as turned dowels
none identical
so many pretty colours
but frictionless
apart from the occasional
splinter.

But sometimes my plastic
slipped
or ripped
and my rough bark
scratched their smoothness
and welled up
invisible blood.
You must be kinder, they said.
Stop scratching people.
I didn't know, I said,
that I was.
I tightened the bonds on my branches
And sticky-taped over the rips
in my plastic.
It was nice. Really it was.

But
the sticky-tape did not hold.
Leave, they said.
You are hurting people.
I didn't mean to, I said.
We know, they said, but you are still too rough.
I wept
And left.
No more pretty colours.
No more play.
No more smooth dowels.

Slowly, still mourning,
I unbound my branches
Slipped off my plastic wrap
And breathed.