I Am My Everything


I’m fifteen when I realize
that I have always been my own
damsel in distress, my own
knight in shining armor, my own
fire-breathing dragon.

In the winter, my castle is a
home with barred windows
and tightly locked doors.
In the summer, my castle is a
prison with silky sheets
and soft pillowcases.

Everything changes, but
nothing seems different.

There are days when I
wake up with long hair and
fluttering birds for friends.
There are days when I
wake up with shiny swords and
ominous forests for friends.
And there are days when I
wake up with charred lips and
third degree burns for friends.

Everyone changes, but
no one seems different.

It’s spring, and my hair
won’t stop growing, but
instead of shining yellow,
it’s fading to grey.

It’s fall, and the forest
is changing color, but
instead of turning orange,
it’s becoming black.

(Where’s the dragon?
It’s winter and it’s summer;
it’s too cold to be outside,
it’s too hot to be outside.
Watch the snow as it burns,
Watch the firefly as it freezes.
Is it too hot or is too cold?
It’s spring and it’s fall;
the damsel is in distress,
the knight is in shining armor.
Where’s the dragon?)

Nothing changes, but
everything seems different.

I look in the mirror,
my hair is yellow.
I look at the trees,
the forest is orange.
One day, I look at my shadow,
the dragon is there.

No one changes, but
everyone seems different.

I’m fifteen when I realize
that I have always been my own
damsel in distress, my own
knight in shining armor, my own
fire-breathing dragon.

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