I learned it from you
I learned how to shrink
from people who took up too much space,
how to apologise
for things that were never mine,
how to swallow words
until they turned into something bitter
and permanent.
You called it attitude
every time I tried to speak,
called it too much
every time I felt anything.
So I made myself smaller,
quieter,
easier to ignore,
until even I
could not find myself.
You were comfortable
with my silence.
But something stayed—
something sharp.
It watched,
it waited,
it remembered
every time I was dismissed,
every time I was rewritten,
every time I was told
to be less.
And now,
I am not interested
in being understood.
I am interested
in being done—
done shrinking,
done softening,
done carrying
what was never mine.
You can call it anger.
I call it
the first honest thing
I have ever felt.
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