Inside of each of us there is a tightly wrapped bundle of roots that run the length of our being, from heart to mind.
The number of possible roots remains fixed from birth, only lessening through the ravages of time.
Our thoughts and feelings travel this route visiting first the library behind our eyes then the ocean of our heart,
often by a chosen familiar path, only changing when a root has stretched a millimeter too far.
For while the roots are thick and strong in youth, they age and lose their imperviousness to strain.
It's when one snaps or cracks that we cringe at the electric surprise of the uninvited pain.
It's not always a directed attack, not always a predator that does the damage and seeks to pull out the ghost...
Sometimes it's the littlest things that damnably add up the most.