So small you are,
So large your heart, your hopes, your dreams…
So large and many are… the burns from embers left forgotten on
the edge of tables, the bruises left from hands, fists, spoons,
planters, bricks, belts, lies…
So small your world,
So large the unknown, the horizon, the "family"…
So large and many are… the questions that you ask, the thinks you
know but do not tell, the promises you keep both for and against
Speak, young one, show the world you are not blind, deaf, or
How hard this is,
How easy still they lie, they cheat, they laugh…
How easy breathing is… when all you know is (clouded, covered)
masked, when that's your only simple hobby, when that's what you
use to count out your life.
How hard your will,
How easy we are broken, bruised, and scratched…
How easy breathing is… when your bed is your safe haven, when
your Barbies fear the night and light, when your window lets in
poison not just air.
Teach, young one, show the world you are not dumb, lame, or
Quite high the price,
Quite low the volume in the house, the world, your mind…
Quite low their words… how their insults break your back, how
their comments scrape your knees, how their pressures crack your
Quite high the emotion,
Quite low the feel of smoke in air, in lungs, in eyes…
Quite low their words… they think you cannot hear them, yet you
cannot bear the thought of not, they think still that
they are so subtle.
Listen, young one, show the world you are not slowed, dying, or
Too near the end,
Too far all options that we forget, dismiss, depend on…
Too far the path… that leads you to a sanctuary true, which can
show you who was right, that is brambled, stoned, and thorned.
Too near their breath,
Too far off your thoughts of "humble, peaceful, sane"…
Too far the path… that can let you remove the mask you wear,
where you can share your tears with others, where empathy doesn't
rule your choices.
Believe, young one, show the world you are not fated, weighted,