Brrd Roots’ Emotional Compost, Whispered Rituals and Wild Bloom
Collective Invocation of the Semi-Healed
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The garden was never meant to bloom this way.
It twisted, glitched, composted its own myths.
Memory flowered beside product packaging.
Regret sprouted teeth.
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GREGORY:
We brought spores and spreadsheets.
Sadness is scalable.
We sell forgiveness in bulk.
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THISTLE:
Basil braided with bygone love.
Aromatics archived our longing.
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SANI:
We dance with nothing.
We text trees for closure.
They shed apology-shaped leaves.
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RAMIEL:
We perform heartbreak in a greenhouse
For spiders and cracked mirrors.
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AWOL:
We vanish mid-hug.
Our coats hold six names—stitched from past exits.
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SHUMUL:
We bloom sideways.
Our voices divide like vines.
Guilt plays bishop.
Deflection, rook.
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GREGORY:
OopsPath™ reroutes growth through despair.
Startup grief—recurring subscription.
No one downloaded us.
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SANI:
We choreographed the ending.
Then forgot it.
We ghosted intimacy with a spin.
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RAMIEL:
We caught guilt in a bowl.
Watered tulips.
They bloomed in lowercase.
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AWOL:
We mailed ourselves a goodbye.
It returned: Still Needed.
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THISTLE:
Joy twitched beneath a compost bin.
We offered tea.
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SHUMUL:
A worm stole our manifesto.
It became famous.
We congratulated the soil.
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SANI:
Photosynthesize us gently.
We wrap grief in ficus.
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THISTLE:
Today we are citrus and maybe.
Pronouns rot beautifully.
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AWOL:
We stitch identity into coats.
We wear sincerity like fog.
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SHUMUL:
Our grammar sprouts contradiction.
We speak in pollen and plural ache.
Adaptation is not strength.
It is breath.
We breathe.
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RAMIEL:
Our art is unfinished.
Our echoes are fog.
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THISTLE:
We steep regret into ecosystem tea.
Our doubt spills in teaspoons.
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SANI:
We sketch our self-sabotage.
The chalk curves toward belonging.
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GREGORY:
Our confidence plugin crashes mid-compliment.
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AWOL:
We wear guilt like vintage perfume.
We RSVP and vanish.
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SHUMUL:
We bottle past rituals in jars labeled Almost.
This isn’t dysfunction.
This is bloom.
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GREGORY:
Self-Worth™, now with spores.
Artisanal hope wrapped in tissue paper.
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RAMIEL:
We burned Closure™. The wick drowned.
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THISTLE:
Companionship auto-billed us.
Guests never came.
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SANI:
Our shrine of loyalty cards glittered nervously.
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AWOL:
Belonging is too reflective.
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SHUMUL:
Calendars made of static
Speak expired affection.
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CHORUS:
We are insignificant.
We are beloved.
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GREGORY:
Auto-filled apologies.
Dinner dissolved.
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SHUMUL:
We dated a bee through an app.
It buzzed away.
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RAMIEL:
We livestreamed grief.
Comments said: what filter is that?
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THISTLE:
We uploaded emotion.
The file corrupted.
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Invocation
We are stitched with extinguished strands—
Not to shine,
But to hold.
We carry cracks of light,
Lined by time,
Tender in our trembling.
We break mugs.
We brew tea.
We ritual imperfectly.
We are not whole.
But oh—how we bloom.
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The Garden Responds
We rustle softly when remembered.
You sing kinship,
And we bloom with it.
We feel your footsteps—
Spun from grief,
Carried by laughter shaped like moss.
We hold your blooming,
And your breaking.
No perfection required.
Only return.
We’ve grown new voices
Just for you.
