Zoning out at Work Vibes

Ancestors

I have realized that,

If my ancestors suddenly stood before me,

I would not care much about what they would have to say.

I would see men who Tormented their children,

Women who let it happen,

and the children, oh the children.

Too much like me.

Have you ever been in the woods?

Where I grew up, No one called it the forest.

So, have you ever seen the woods?

Up close?

The grass has never been mowed, and yet,

it isn't very green or very tall.

All year long you can see dead leaves littering the floor.

There are fallen trees,

branches,

and thorny vines,

fat red ticks that look like spiders,

and tiny black ones that need to be rinsed off with warm water.

But, in a perfect world,

The woods are filled with nothing but trees and dusky sunlight.

It is completely comfortable and warm to lay under the trees in a perfect world.

Imagine this:

laying on the warm floor of the woods,

looking up as orange sunlight slants through the bright green leaves.

feeling yourself practically melting into the dirt.

knowing that you have no clue how much time you have spent here.

Knowing that you want to stay here forever

Then one day, a frog walks up, standing up on his two back feet.

He speaks

and asks you if you've seen his gem,

or his friend Turtle, who is actually a hedgehog,

or some other such nonsense.

You tell him no and he asks if you will help him look.

and you realize something you already knew, in some way or another.

You have laid here for so long that roots and vines have grown over and around you.

Clover is sprouting up between your fingers.

You happily tell the frog, that you cannot help him look.

You are, after all, a bit tied up at the moment.

but, these vines are not like the real vines that are found in the woods.

The tendrils that snatch and grab.

These are gentle and weak.

They do not hold you down, but you let them.

You refuse to break something so gentle.

This is why I will turn my back on my ancestors.

I will not forget my history.

History will lurk in the back of my mind,

but I will not meet my ancestors' gaze.

They deserve an apology from someone who isn't me,

but someone else deserves a better apology from them.

Another apology that I cannot give.

Will not give.

Dear Ancestors,

You did not fail. You did something worse. 

You succeeded in making something worse when you should have protected it.

You were not the first. 

But, you need to be the last.

This may sound a bit arrogant, but it ends with me.