No Longer Small

I used to fold myself in half

on other people’s couches,

knees to chest,

laughing softly like an apology.

﹁﹂

I mastered the art of “it’s fine,”

the tiny smile,

the quieter outfit,

The way you pretend you don’t need anything.

﹁﹂

Even my dreams got shy

They started whispering

So nobody would hear them

and call them too much.

﹁﹂

But today I bought a chair

I didn’t measure twice

for anyone else’s comfort.

It’s green. Loud green.

It looks like confidence with a spine.

﹁﹂

I put it near the window

and sat in it

like I belonged to my own life.

﹁﹂

I spoke in a full voice

at the checkout line,

said “no, that’s not correct,”

and didn’t melt into the floor after.

﹁﹂

The old me would’ve vanished,

become wallpaper,

become air,

become “whatever you want.”

﹁﹂

Now I’m learning

I can take up space

without being a threat,

without being sorry,

without shrinking into someone’s pocket.

﹁﹂

And if they don’t like it…

well.

They can scoot.