you do not have to solve it.
you can’t.
you do not have to endlessly inquire.
the burgeoning sense of identity will drift its way to you, slowly and indefinitely, yet abruptly.
you will notice the bends and crevices in your brain deepening.
it might hurt at first
it might feel as if a million ants climbed through your ears and into your mind, claiming your skull as their home.
they will keep searching for their queen until they find her
but when they do, you will look at the scraggly bark of an elderly tree and feel companionship–
a maternal bond.
as if its deeply wedged roots had also once been weak and feeble
as if every storm that the tree suffered from had gifted each branch an incomparable shape
and you will feel as if you could muster up all the strength in the world to fling yourself from the moist soil
and onto the moon.
or maybe you will sink into the soil instead
and let the roots grow from your feet
and watch as your line of sight slowly grows higher and higher
and you will swallow many, many more ants
and you will be fulfilled.
so fulfilled that you will be perfectly fine when you hear the hum of a chainsaw.
maybe you will be made into paper for little ones to doodle on.
maybe they will take your parts and build a sturdy table for a family to share dinner over.
perhaps you will be kindled into a fire that keeps even the coldest warm.
but either way,
you will be fulfilled.
Author’s Note:
I couldn’t fall asleep, and as I looked out my window to the trees swaying in the wind, I was inspired. Those were the same trees that I had looked to night after night. Although, with each season, they looked different—burly and green in the summer, brittle and dry in the winter. They were in a constant state of change, just like me.
Caroline Grace Taylor | 16 | Menlo Park, CA | @carolineistoocool on TikTok & @carolineisthecoolesttt on Instagram
