What you have done to me
BY gisele ferreira
I’m scared of ambling through a forest at night.
I’m afraid of snakes that lie on the forest’s earthy floor.
I fear the feeling of the gloomy wind blurring my sight.
But somehow the rustling of your leaves gave me comfort.
Your light hisses that rolled off granted me respite.
You robbed my sight but freed my imagination.
I cringe at the thought of human interaction.
I’m frightened of being the talk of the town.
I’m daunted at the thought of not being everyone’s satisfaction.
Somehow, talking to you makes me feel as though I’m a work of art meant to be unique.
Somehow, I am okay with you assuming the worst of me.
Somehow, I accepted that I couldn’t please you.
For some odd reason, I can confidently say
I’m not a mouse that lives in fear of being in the wrong house at the wrong time
I’m not a withering flower living its last few days on Earth
I’m not letting the walls of my personality corrode to let you sit on a pedestal.
Because you make me stronger than I already am.