I am More Than This

“I am not just my sadness.” I say softly. “Nor am I just my anger.”

You watch me carefully, your eyes narrowing as your tongue flickers nervously between your teeth.

“I am not what I fear.” I say, my voice harder, stronger.

You shy away from me, your poisonous words dying on your tongue as you skitter from my resolve.

“I am more than what I feel.” I announce, power in my voice.

“You are nothing.” I hear you hiss feebly.

“I am everything.” I reply.

With shaky limbs I rise from the bed, turning to you with fury in my voice.

“Get out.” I order. “Get out and never return.”

You try to protest, but your tricks no longer work on me.

Instead, you slither from the room as I lock the door behind you.

My body shudders as I collapse against my bed’s soft sheets,

The weight of my actions catching up to me.

For you see power is heavy to wield.

If you’re not careful it can hollow you out,

Fill your bones with lead,

And poison you from the inside out.

“I am more than my power.” I murmur to myself.