I guess I won’t run; I didn’t have fun!

The tongues of my new sneakers slashed my ankles – they were bleeding!

I had to take them back; I was finished being attacked.

It reminded me of the response to the declarations and facts I was trying to reveal.

I published them in books, and those who took a look weren’t believ(er – her)s

Instead, they condescend and belittle me. I guess they don’t need me.

They said it can’t be – all the things that I see – no way, not her.

Well, let me tell you what you lack = you’re still tiny; it’s a fact.

The words you sling bounce off my ankles and land at my feet.

All relationships are now so distant and far, that your tongue lashes no longer leave scars.

Now when you enter your mind with open eyes & stand tall,

The unkindness spewed my way will quickly fade away.

And the transformation of your tongues confess words of gratitude and love.

p.s. I don’t care if you believe; it no longer affects me. I see that you are small, unevolved, not yet standing tall – hence, my expectations of you are small.

Sneakers Photo by Stéphan Valentin on Unsplash, Everything has Beauty Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash