If only I could stitch together
Your expectations of me
Into a quilt of judgement
To hide my shame
To warm my flesh
From the chilling anxiety
Of failing you
But it doesn’t quite work that way, now does it?
But you call that support
You call that helpful
You feel entitled
To the fruits of my labour
Rushing to make it into a salad
And feast off my success
Or the be entertained by my fall
But you did not starve with me.
You played hide and seek
When I was in need
You had a thousand excuses
All synonymous to the word No.
But I’m expected to remember you
When I was forgotten
I’m expected to carry you
When I had no rope
To guide my climb
And then give you the key
To the profound secret
To achieve
Cute.
Cute indeed
Until you so-called concern
Can fill the dragged imprints
In the soil
Made by my limping walk
Toward a better life
Do not expect to cash in on my smile
Or rest in the green of my pastures
Should I ever return to your place of comfort
That bars were my nightmare
Know that I have not come to say hi
I’ll greet you in the name of Freedom
And return your shackles of hatred
That once fueled my mission to become more
And now that I am more
I wave away the stench of your bitterness
And throw over your quilt of judgement
To hopefully warm your cold shoulder
And hardened frown.
I am more. I am so much more.