
Uprooting
A poem by Olivia Atkins
Chaotic routine that I’m swimming in,
Little relief; you’ve given up on me.
My hands are bound
Tied up with responsibilities
And nothing can scare me,
Bar myself.
I no longer expect you to ride in
On your white horse,
To swoop me off the ground.
I’m looking for new methods
To rescue myself.
I stand strong,
Legs firmly apart, strident,
Feeling into myself,
Calm and alone,
Empowered.
You are the past,
A previous iteration,
An idealized version I nostalgically remember.
What you know no longer exists,
You look at me but do not see.
You’ve imagined the apparition before you,
Eyes settling on the familiar outline
Yet the contents have mutated,
Evolved and grown
Beyond recognition.
But you are blind; ignorant
Of their progression.
Written by Olivia Atkins
@livvy_atkins oliviaatkins.com
Photography by: Natalia Atkins @natalia_atkins www.nataliaatkins.com