
Don’t presume to instruct me in my own emotions:
You’ve never pumped an ounce of blood through this heart, lived one minute of my past, braved my night terrors.
Forget about shoes; you can’t walk my path in them, can’t make me wear them,
but you wanna pedagogue me, catechize me, tell me how,
forgetting
that I have my own thoughts, moods, interior rooms you’ll never enter.
My context isn’t free; you are not
entitled
I am not
obligated
Joy pain sorrow grief betrayal pride shame regret rage anger fear rejection exclusion denial doubt love hate compassion exuberance exasperation condemnation enlightened sexy timid stupid invisible empowered exhausted desperate overwhelmed
Pick a word. Feel it however you want, and mind your own damn business.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston



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