I am a rhizome.
Cut me to pieces, I will grow again.
Snatch me, throw me, I will crawl again.
Stroke me, feed me, I will hide again.
Burn your desire, I will cool again.
Show me the world, I will part again.

I am a rhizome, I told myself.
I am without a heart, without a home.
I am not there to stay, I have somewhere to be.
I have nowhere to go, but everywhere to see.
I am without shadow, as I can't leave a trace.
I cannot dare to take, as having is a mistake.

I am a rhizome, I said.
Don't you dare pick me, don't you dare see me.
Don't you dare tell me about dreams and memories.

I am a rhizome.
And I might be the tree, looking down on looking up at its stunted selves.