If I were a Tree
If I were a tree,
Maybe I'd be free.
Not stuck in my mind
Wondering if they hate me.
I'd be autonomous and imperfect,
And okay with that, too.
Not knowing how to think,
Not right on the brink
Of ending all of this in a blink.
My thoughts wouldn't be deep,
And I would easily sleep;
Unplagued by voices
Of the hearts that I reap.
If I were a tree,
I wouldn't forsee
Every situation
That could come to be.
I'd be free of the fear, free of the lies.
If I were a tree,
Would I still want to die?
But maybe I need to feel pain
And sadness and strain
Or just cry to release
The tension in my brain.
But I can't feel a thing;
I'm not happy or sad, or whatever's in between.
All I feel is fear and guilt;
Wish I could enjoy all that you've built.
Trees are strong, and weak.
And don't have to speak.
They aren't judged,
And it's okay if their joints creak.
For all of these trees,
It's normal to feel nothing.
It's normal to sleep without resting,
It's normal to cry without hurting.
But unfortunately, I'm not a tree.
