Poetry 169: Small

Small

 

I’ve trained myself

to be invisible.

 

Over and over again.

 

Because if you are

too this or too that

they will crush you.

 

The trick is to likable

but forgettable-

not an easy tight

rope to walk

to be sure.

 

To share enough

but not too much.

 

You must show you

are listening, but

not demanding or

commanding any attention

for yourself.

 

And what you do share,

MUST not outshine

the others. So you

choose your words

ridiculously wisely.

 

Something that contributes,

but in no way suggests

I am any more

than average. In no way

suggests I am any bigger

than my small self.

 

It’s exhausting.

 

And it’s sad.

The way I contort

my body and mind into

a pretzel shape

so that the other person

does not feel uncomfortable

in any way.

 

I wish I could

be brave enough

to just be.

To speak when

I want to speak.

To share when I

have something to

contribute.

To live fully and wholly.

 

But I don’t.

 

I stay small and

polite in my

little box so others

can continue to feel

bigger, smarter, stronger,

more-than me.

 

Does that make me less-than?

 

I know it doesn’t.

And some day,

some day,

I will find my freedom.

I will find my voice.

 

-Me