Becoming Unowned

I used to answer my phone like a leash,

like my freedom depended on how fast I replied.

Even in the shower

I’d rush, dripping, just to prove

I wasn’t “difficult.”

﹁﹂

He loved me most when I was pliable,

When my plans stayed cancellable,

When my laughter came with permission slips

signed in invisible ink.

﹁﹂

I didn’t notice the cage at first

It looked like compliments,

It sounded like “I worry about you,”

It felt like being chosen.

﹁﹂

Then one day I wore a dress he hated

And the sky didn’t fall.

Nothing exploded.

Just his silence

trying to train me back into obedience.

﹁﹂

I went to the park alone

with a book I barely read,

watching kids sprint in circles

like life is theirs by default.

﹁﹂

I started saying my name out loud

in my own kitchen,

slow and steady,

like I was returning it

from someone’s pocket.

﹁﹂

I’m not a possession.

I’m not a project.

I’m not a “good girl” reward.

﹁﹂

I am becoming unowned

and it feels strange,

and it feels sacred,

And I’m not done yet.