Hurricane

I've been told my whole life that I'm hard to handle.

I tried to be quieter, softer, more agreeable and likeable.

 Why? Why smooth out my edges? I am sharp like a razor.

 I am worth the bloodshed. I am worth the risk. It is fine if they do not see it.

I know my own worth. Others opinions of me do not define me.

Think what you will. I do not care.

I will not light myself on fire to keep you warm.

I will not dull my light so you can shine.

I do not need nor want you.  I am capable of great things.

I will not be gentle. I will not step to be side or bow down.

I will stand tall. I am not to much or too big to be so little. I am fierce.

I will not look down. I will not look back.

I will look to the future because I am meant to do great things.

Though there are others with my qualities, thoughts, and talents, I am unique.

I am a force to be reckoned with.

I will be taken seriously.

I will be treasured.

I will be noticed.

I will not be settled like the ocean before the storm.

I am the storm. I am not a light summer rain nor a drizzle or a mist.

I am a hurricane...

 

...and I will be treated as such.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741