The Year of Me
I am standing still
while my fears sprint forward
marathon runners in a race I never
entered.
Everyone else-moving, growing,
leaving
and I am the statue in the middle of the
road
cars honking, the world swerving
around me.
My surroundings have teeth.
They chew on my silence.
Crowds press into my skin
until I can`t find my own bones
anymore.
Who is this in the mirror?
I wore her face once. Now it`s
borrowed.
I am tired.
Tired of pouring from an empty cup
into hands that never learned to hold
me.
Tired of being the umbrella in
everyone's storm
while I drown in my own rain.
So this year, I am selfish.
Call it what you want-
I call it survival.
I will not be the bridge for feet that forget me.
I will not be the candle that dies to light
your room.
I am learning to defend this body, this
mind.
No, I don`t need your army.
I don`t need friends and family who only notice
me now
when I've finally stopped waving.
How did I spend a lifetime
memorizing everyone else`s needs
and forget the language of my own name?
Today I take it back.
Letter by letter.
Breath by breath.
This time, I choose me -
the way it was supposed to be
before the world taught me to
apologize for existing.
I am not going nowhere.
I am going inward.
And that, finally,
is a journey worth taking.
-The Year of Me
-By Lilita Wali
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
