For the
collective "they"
Life until adulthood
is a continuous string of "no"
Until they inherit the word,
Raise it tenderly as their own.
Who are "they"?
Never named
as anything but
"They think"
"They say"
"They won't let you"
Woven omnipresence.
Threads cinch when
You feel the "nos" seep into your pores,
and say them to yourself.
Fabric rips: a realization
As They say,
there is no "I" in team
but
There is a "me" in "them"
and the nos
are beginning to bleed through.
Pluck them out
Splinters sting, but
the "Yes" grows back
Healing
Stronger for anyone else
who still wears "no"
under their skin.
Life until adulthood
is a continuous string of "no"
Until they inherit the word,
Raise it tenderly as their own.
Who are "they"?
Never named
as anything but
"They think"
"They say"
"They won't let you"
Woven omnipresence.
Threads cinch when
You feel the "nos" seep into your pores,
and say them to yourself.
Fabric rips: a realization
As They say,
there is no "I" in team
but
There is a "me" in "them"
and the nos
are beginning to bleed through.
Pluck them out
Splinters sting, but
the "Yes" grows back
Healing
Stronger for anyone else
who still wears "no"
under their skin.
