I used to lament
took it for granted
how could you take and
take and take
and amputate and
amputate
while
the receiving end
had to grin and
bear it?

A lesson learned at three
from
The Giving Tree
and at the end I swore
I would never find myself
plunked on a stump with my
shoulders hunched
spine a winding
road
of greed
but yet
still here I am
having done it
without realizing.

It’s not the worst feeling
not a pit in my stomach or a
lump in my throat
It’s disbelief
suspended
A cloud over my head
Upended
a processless purgatory
that says
I’ll be back,
like before, won’t I?
I’ll be—

Maybe.
But it won't be the
same
like the boy and the tree
as when he returned
years into the future
I’ll see
little left of what I knew
that shaped me into me

I was not who I am
four years ago
and as the story
shows
neither was he

So until then
I’ll work to make my peace
with this.
I’ll work to make my peace.