Spoken Word Poem - Roots

If a heart goes too long without ever feeling free, it forgets there is an outside, that there is more to the tree; that is not just a trunk, jutting up from the ground, but there are something called roots that go deep and around the solid infrastructure of the ground that tries to hold her back, but she pushes onward and upward and she gives all she has to the point she can still be standing even if she’s dead.
This is something I thought I comprehended; for I let myself die to support other lives. I let the birds make their nests inside of my curled up branches, and I held onto their dead weight as I took on their imperfections… to the point it broke me. The branch fell with a crash, and I turn to apologize, but my brittle back breaks and I back to face my own crushing failures and brokenness. Even if I was alive, I wouldn't even know it.
This is something that I can comprehend. This is something that I am. I am the tree that was dying for so long; she assumed she was dead, so she shed all her leaves in the unforgiving autumnal breeze.  So I plead with God to take me up already, I am already dead, but he whispers to me child, lift up your head. You aren't dead yet, nor are you near that. You are a tree in need of a spring, and look! Here it comes, see I do a new thing.