Site icon Expression Of Age

Not My Own Person

Not My Own Person

I am not in and of myself

Farthest from original, I have stolen 

From those around me

Details I kept close to my heart

Were once unobserved nuances from this world around me

For I am not my own person

 

But I am the artist my mother handed paintbrushes to

I am the mess of color of her bright shades of crayola markers

I am the uneven out of line coloring books she gave me

 

And I am the screaming car rides with my father

I am his favorite 2000’s music of thumping bass and techno

And his poorly placed holiday music in between

 

I am the character from the first book my teacher ever gave me to read

I am those words I struggled to read and giggle at

I am the phrases I read over and over,

A repeated mantra of jokes I wanted to tell

 

I am my grandmother’s crocheted dolls of pastel pink cheeks

I am hours I spent on her floor with wooden toys

I am her childhood relived, my mothers and her sisters between

Sleeping, I am the soft smell of her old sarees wrapped around me

 

I am the first time my friend danced in the hallways, 

unapologetic as the school bell rang

I am the laughs we couldn’t keep down at midnight on our first sleepover

And I am the scars her calico cat left behind. 

 

But I am also the red ticks of approval from my teacher

I am the quiet warnings and scoldings in the corner of her class

And the unmarked papers I hid from her under my desk

 

I am the phrases she wouldn’t stop laughing about

Now imprinted and of my vocabulary

I am the movies he raved about a few too many times

And I am the wrapped, shiny-bow books in the crinkled paper they had handed me

 

I am the hours I spent in her office, crying about existentialism

I am her long paragraphs of comfort that never helped

I am the mess of insecurity projected onto me by the pockmarked, bruised teenager I forced myself to laugh around 

I am the tears spilled over melodrama with her I could have kept myself out of.

 

I am the words I write in gifted notebooks

I am everything and everyone that I

Stole from, gave to, and kept close to my heart

So I can no longer be my own person.

 
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