Josie Spencer | + Follow Poet |
Free verse | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

The Fire He Fed

I gave him the map to my mind,
Let him redraw the lines in my skin,
Traded my laughter for silence,
Just to be something he could live in.

He handed me rules like chains,
Soft-spoken, wrapped in love’s disguise—
Don’t wear that. Don’t say this. Don’t be you,
And I, too blind to see, apologized.

I shrunk to fit his comfort.
Tamed my voice so he could speak.
Dulled my shine to soothe his ego,
Made myself small, made myself weak.

And every day, he chipped away—
My worth, my will, my fire.
Until I couldn’t find my reflection
In the mirror of his desire.

But then—he left.
And with the echo of his silence,
I heard something I hadn’t in years:
Me.

A whisper at first,
Then a roar through the ruins:
You are not broken.
You are free.

My confidence came rushing back
Like the tide he’d tried to cage.
My bravery danced in daylight—
No more hiding, no more stage.

Now I speak without permission,
Wear what sets my soul alight.
I laugh loud. I take up space.
I no longer dim my light.

I talk to strangers, make new friends,
Taste new worlds, chase new skies.
I write my rules in fire now—
No more fear behind my eyes.

He took so much, and I let him.
But what he gave me in the end
Was the spark to rebuild myself—
Not as his.
But as my own best friend.

Please Login to post a comment