The Hemlock Tree

                            I stared above, at the beautiful hemlock tree. Its flowers are so beautiful. I thought. So beautiful yet poisonous. 

                            I wanted to touch it, to smell it. And hold it near me. Its such tiny flowers and small petals close to my heart.

                            What if it was just a cliche. Just a stereotype.  What if it was just feared by people because of what other people said about it. Fear usually grows by what people say about things. Not always, but usually.

                              How does the hemlock tree feel about all this controversy? How does it feel when everyone stays ten feet away. Ten feet away from its white flowers. 

                                Is that why hemlocks only stay with other hemlocks. Because of the expectations everyone has for them? Or people's fear of being poisoned?

                                 Again I looked at the hemlock. I looked at every part of it. I saw the outside but I wanted to see how it was underneath all that poison. I studied its gangly branches as it stretched high. It vaguely reminded me of bamboo shoots.  Soon I realized that it wasn't a tree at all. More like a tall bush. Why did I think of it as a tree? 

                                In that second of realization, I saw that it was nothing great at all. All it was, was a thicket of poison. A mere bush compared to the skyscraping evergreens surrounding it. 

                          I pitied it. I pitied its beautiful flowers and its sharp leaves. I pitied its branches. I pitied everything about it. "I'm sorry," I said to it. 

                        The hemlock didn't make a sound. Not even a crinkling of a leaf. It seemed to stare at me. Quietly, the hemlock seemed to bend. As if hanging its head low. It was either a sign of respect or shame. Or even apology. I bowed too, content with the response.

                          How was I so unstable about everything. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. I was inconsistent. One moment I loved the hemlock tree, then thought nothing of it. Now, I didn't know what I felt. I made myself angry sometimes.

                           I could never touch the hemlock tree. Never go near it. I could only look at it. And that broke my heart. It ripped it into pieces and scattered the remains.

                         Beautiful, beautiful hemlock tree. I understand. I must stay away from you. You have already warned me. 

                     Forgive me. It pains me to say this but we must stay apart for the rest of our days. No matter how much I'm drawn to you, I must evade your enchantment.