Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Don't tell me to settle down,
to calm down,
to pipe down.
I'm soaring on wings
made of broken things
made whole by my anger
and I won't come down.
I won't back down.
I won't look down.
Tell me instead
that the high road
isn't always the right road
and I am unbowed
in the face of
the weight of
expectations
by the boatload,
bestowed
by people like you.
Or I'll tell myself.
That's better
than being a debtor
to your good will,
waiting for the poison pill,
the sleeping pill,
anything to escape
the misery,
the natural history
of your slippery
slope.
I own my witchery.
About the Creator
Maria Shimizu Christensen
Writer living my dreams by day and dreaming up new ones by night
Also, History Major, Senior Accountant, Geek, Fan of cocktails and camping
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