Grown
Dounia Sadeghi
They weigh me down
-My anchors-
(Self-doubt and skepticism)
To the earth
I am but a fallen angel.
My innocence
Will not do me good there
I must act as though I know
How it feels to be worn.
The stinging is alive.
Inside me
There is knowing and more
To be discovered
I am unable to break its barrier;
To extract the pulse.
It is beating
I know.
I feel it.
It has diminished
Since the second grade
When running was easy
And my sock didn't match.
It was okay to be.
Just breathe.
And all I did was breathe
And life was complete.
This dying is eventual.
My confidence has faded,
The decay is gradual.
My exuberance has subsided
To a quiet complacency
That endures,
And endures
Until I no longer believe.
