Unmade

You will never know my true power

for I am a made woman

my future sculpted by beauty

my personality sculpted by man

I learned early to sit just right

to speak in lowercase,

to never interrupt

even when my chest was full of lightning.

They said I had kind eyes.

I made them kinder.

They said I smiled too little

I learned to bare my teeth.

Some things I don't talk about.

Some things live beneath my skin,

quiet as breath in a dark room.

You’d never notice

unless you looked too long.

Unless you touched the parts I flinch from.

I don’t cry in front of mirrors.

I never really liked the sound.

But I’ve memorized the script

how to look normal

how to make pain presentable

how to disappear without leaving

I keep souvenirs in my bones.

Names I don't say out loud.

Rooms I left with my soul in pieces.

But I walk just fine now.

Most days.

You call me strong like it’s a compliment.

Like you’d survive what I did.

But strength is just survival

when softness gets you swallowed.

And still

you look at me and see grace.

You see composure.

You see someone who made it.

But I am not made

I was unmade

and stitched back together

with thread no one can see.

Thread I wove myself

in silence

in shadows

in moments that broke like glass

under bare feet.

So no,

you will never know my true power.

Because you think this smile is whole

and that’s exactly how I want it.