(This is something I was suddenly inspired to write, late at night, after feeling blocked for so long! So healing!)
"Be quiet," they said, "you talk too much."
So, I stopped sharing and swallowed it down,
Like the food that kept me company.
"Lose weight," they said, "you're too big,
No one will want you; no one will marry you."
So, I assumed I'd be alone, but I'd be okay.
"Don't be silly," they said,
"You're just a baby,
Your opinion doesn't count."
So, I no longer had one.
But I had plans, and I had dreams,
And I pursued them... quietly.
"Where are you going?" they said,
"You can't leave here; you can't make it alone!"
But I did and I survived, and I thrived.
"We knew it couldn't last," they said,
"You didn't know what you were doing,
You should never have left us."
But I left, and I made mistakes,
and they were mine, and I learned,
and I kept going, and I made a new life.
"Come back," they said, "come visit, let's be together."
But I had clarity, and I was free, and I was happy.
And I never went back, never even considered it.
And as they faded, whispers in the dust,
I knew I'd never return, never regret the flight.
In the silence I found my voice, in darkness, light.