I am so tired of people viewing me as this fragile glass vase
As if I were lazily crafted and any touch could crack me open
I have crossed broken bridges to get to the other side of an unstable mountain.
I have swum across currents that can swallow someone whole without a second in between.
I have picked my feet off from the core pits off the blackest tar
You treat me as if i can’t safely plant my feet deep under the sand
when the current tries to sweep me away
You treat me as if my leaves crumple and sway
At the slightest touch or breath
I have survived storms that have blown the roof of homes.
I have built boats that keep me afloat with a simple piece of wood
Each time getting splinters that engrave my finger prints
Only slighting tainting the appearance
Of slightly my crooked pinky from the many promises
How do you expect me to not come out with scars?
You look at the consequences of my wounds as if i do not know them.
I have memorized each indent, each mark, each piece of broken flesh.
I am not broken.
I am scarred
But I am not broken
The difference matters.
The difference is the hope that lingers
at the surface of my teared up eyes
The difference is the way my mouth is able to say I love you
Without the performance of a fake smile
The difference is not expecting anything in return
Stop treating me like I am not capable of surviving without your guidance.
I was born into chaos the second i came out of my mother’s nest.
Stop saying that my pure existence is based off my need for drama
I am the roaring thunder that you cannot bear to listen to late at night.
Stop calling it simplicity that I can just brush off my sore shoulders
I am the electric lightning that burns your shelter built by narcissism
You refuse to believe I am more than my tears and my sorrows.
I am the snow that pours and spills upon your dry rigid branches
Only needed when you want to admire from afar
Always warning me that my ice can make people afraid of slipping
But the ice is what makes up the tiny vital particles that make up snowflakes
That help you decide when to conveniently pretend to admire me
I might seem unfixable,
I might seem uncontrollable,
I might seem destroyed.
But I am the opposite.
I am irreconcilable to that
I am the rug under your feet that is there whenever your shoes get slippery.
I hold the walls of your home together every time your arms get too tired.
I sow other’s wounds and treat them with beautiful delicacy
Being careful of only healing them with burning yet cleansing empathy
because I know how it feels to be left bleeding.
We have made this entire culture based on heartbreak and coldness
Deeming emotions as unnecessary and useless
But I am here with wounds so visible you need a magnifying glass
To see that my skin is constantly healing and re-adjusting
To inform you that caring does not make me incompetent to survive hurricanes
I become the wind and the speed of sound during storms
Yet remain being the comforting blanket that warms away fear
I promise that i will indulge in everything the world offers me
I promise that i will live every emotion with such passion
that it makes the skies rain of happiness,
I promise that you will not be the reason I sink to the bottom of my despair.
I am whole, I am full, I am the spinning axis of my own world.
I am the big neon sign that screams vacancy
Only visible to those crawling under the lonely desert night sky
As they scurry for belonging and a friendly gaze
I lead broken tourists to their home by giving them a taste of unconditional acceptance,
Absolutely no compromises or exceptions
T
The calm after the chaos
by Carlita Guevara, 12