If Anyone Can

  If anyone can, I can.
  In April, there was a white noise day. I walked outside in my red dress with my rose poncho, flower in hair, and watched a promise drive away. The heavy was so heavy my eyes became planets. One red. One blue. And I sat on the concrete bench that felt cool beneath me; braced myself in a neutral place just to keep my feet on the ground.
  Rachael asked me if I wanted to take a drive.
  There was nothing I could say.
  So, I sat on the couch in a coma for three months and only ate vending machine food. And the root of bad potatoes in my brain grew and grew.
  Last year, I learned how to gather them all...sling them over my shoulder like a working man whose hands are tattered and bruised. Between the breaking waves of silences, I hear the fringe of a distant white noise.
   If anyone can, I can


   Uproot.