my memory is a dangerous tree

My memory is a dangerous tree. The more it grows, the stronger it becomes. It's like a two sided sword. I use it like a fine armour, but it has the capacity to kill myself too.

I remember too much. I love it and hate it.

How can something fade away with time, and become stronger in the same time.

I love the branches that grow, but the roots, they fixate you to the soil. And the tree never moves. Is the tree meant to move?

What if the tree could move? Would it want to grow the roots to the core of the earth? Or will it choose freedom?

What if freedom for them is being immovable and rooted?

What if freedom for me is being able to hold on to my memories freely?

my memory is a dangerous tree

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