Defining Your Lines (A Story of Self in Rhyme)

Photo: CA Hawthorne

Photo: CA Hawthorne

Unseen and huddled as she was in full view,
she released dangerous tears anew.
They flowed beneath her cheeks on the inside,
falling to her heart’s emotional lies.

A little voice, calling itself Hope, held her as one,
encouraging her to see pictures where there were none.
In those pictures she was defined,
images of someone she liked just fine.

Later, in her excited state,
she remembered her place
when it was too late.

“I’d like to do something, something to share,
something to help others and show that I care.”

“Something special? How typical,” said the Tone.
“Special is reserved for those who are truly someone.
Can’t you see I’m someone special and you’re Nothing,
why, you’re empty space and I’m Something.”

“But I want to feel good inside and show it, too.
I want to believe in me, see what I can do.
What’s wrong with being somebody, too?”

“What’s wrong with that you can’t see?
Your desires are selfish because they steal from me.
You’d steal from Something to set Nothing free.”

“But don’t you kind of, sort of, do the same thing?”

“Not if one of us is invisible.”

Fading, she held herself because no one was near,
but the voice named Hope whispered in her ear.

“You’re something,
and someone,
and so much more.
You’re dreams
and ideas
and worth fighting for.

“Their err,
their failing
is invisibility.
Find yourself,
your voice,
and set it free.”

“But I’m not allowed, Hope,
I’m to be silent.
Too much of me breaks the quiet.”

find yourself,
until it feels right,
then gather your voice,
let it soar,
let it color the night.

“Let others be free,
let them draw their own lines.
That’s for them to do,
and for them that’s just fine.

“But if they draw you,
you’re a blank page
and then they’ll crumple your nothingness
and toss you away.”

She surveyed her refuge
her box,
her prison.
She fled that non home
to escape the derision.

She ran down streets,
and roads,
and a path.
She gathered the freedom
to draw lines at last.

She topped a high point,
a summit,
an apex.
The view bowed down
and she stood fast.

“I’m someone,
I’m unique,
and I’m one of a kind.
I’ve a voice
and a heart
and a life that’s mine.
I’ll learn,
I’ll grow,
and myself I’ll define.

“No longer invisible,
but a star in the night,
I’ll burn always,
for this is my day, my time, my sky.
I’ll stand tall,
I’ll not be quiet.
I’ll draw my lines
and I’ll define them.”

@September 2016, Christina Anne Hawthorne

Photo: CA Hawthorne

Photo: CA Hawthorne

One Reply to “Defining Your Lines (A Story of Self in Rhyme)”

  1. Pingback: Defining Your Lines (A Story of Self in Rhyme) | Christina Anne Hawthorne

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