the Corners of my life were my home.

pushed into the spaces in between—unseen,

side by side, shoulder to shoulder

beside other shadows of Perfection.

 

Look at the way That Girl holds herself—

soft and graceful and lovely,

watery and stiff

with big smiles and dewy eyes.

Be more like her.

 

look at how brittle and grey—

I would think to myself as I,

mimicked Her movements

stifled my voice.

 

anger and vexation

was met by the back of

a Strong Hand.

opinions struck down by

Sharp Words.

 

Be smaller…

smaller…

smaller…

 

for Shallow minds and

Judgmental eyes

have already

Defined me

 

so I smiled—

all dumb and pretty and

quiet and small…

 

And as I crept in the corner,

choking on all the Words

I wanted to Scream—

Poetry became my Revolution.