You’ll never understand, sapling, how I wonder why things happened the way they did.
I see your heart break. I see you fail. I see your pain.
Then I return to that place again.
Red-neon Merlin’s sign glowing. “Tainted Love” playing. Your father’s Stetson cologne. His black hair combed, eyes confident like a sorcerer’s.
I think of the wooden handrail I gripped as he gripped me. Filthy, poisonous splinters tearing into my palms as he tore into me.
I can only pray now, sapling, that your tree one day sheds its poison.
Until then, my heart, my roots, ache for yours.