I had my own choices
once,
in a new and unfamiliar world.
I was allowed to speak —
to name my fears,
to listen to the quiet alarms inside me.
Then something larger moved in.
A force.
A season.
A life stage.
A voice that wasn’t mine.
Maybe a bully.
Maybe time.
Maybe I still don’t know
what the hell happened.
I only know
I lost her.
Buried under expectations,
under survival,
under a pile of things I never chose
but learned to carry.
Is this it?
Fighting every day
to keep the peace
with too many branches pulling at me —
while secretly
wanting to burn the whole damn tree
just to see what’s left standing.
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