They Tried to Bury Me, But I Grew Roots

They Tried to Bury Me, But I Grew Roots

by Milli Femme

They tried to bury me…

But I grew roots.

They thought the dirt would drown my dreams,

That silence would sew shut my truth.

But baby, I’m the seed that splits the concrete.

I’m the whisper that became a war cry.

I’m the one who lived when living was the revolution.

Let me tell you,

I been through storms that don’t come with names,

Through nights so dark even prayer had to feel its way home.

I survived the ghetto,

Where hope had to hustle,

Where little girls learned early

That softness could get you swallowed.

I been the woman with bruises under her blouse,

And brilliance hidden under her breath.

Married to a man who mistook my light for something he could dim.

He thought if he broke me, I’d stay small.

But see, the thing about breaking

Is that pressure makes diamonds,

And I've been shining ever since.

They tried to bury me…

But I grew roots.

Roots deep enough to drink from pain

And still produce peace.

Roots that twisted around every lie they told me

And turned it into lumber for my becoming.

I bled twice through preeclampsia 

Twice the warning, twice the war.

They said my pressure was high 

But so was my purpose.

I walked out of those hospital doors

Holding both my babies and my breath,

And whispered to God,

“Thank You for letting me live to tell it.”

And tell it I will.

Because I earned this peace.

I earned this softness.

I earned the right to smile

Without apologizing for the joy.

They tried to bury me…

But I grew roots.

Roots that cracked through concrete classrooms,

Finishing college while chaos called my name.

He tried to stop me,

But destiny doesn’t take orders.

And every paper I turned in

Was a petition to my future:

Let me be free.

Now I stand tall 

Not because life spared me,

But because it didn’t.

Because I’ve tasted hell,

And still had honey on my tongue.

Because I learned that healing isn’t a straight line 

It’s a spiral that leads you home.

Sisters

If you’re listening,

If you’re hurting,

If you’re wondering if your soil is too dry to bloom

Let me be your proof.

We are not what we’ve been through.

We are what we’ve become after it.

They tried to bury us

But we grow anyway.

We grow holy.

We grow healed.

We grow loud,

And lush,

And luminous.

So when they ask me how I survived,

I just smile and say,

“Baby, I’m rooted.”

Because the deeper the pain went,

The higher my branches reached.

They tried to bury me 

But I grew roots.

And now?

I am the whole forest.