some days
I wish I was
the quiet girl
the one who goes unnoticed
who knows obedience best
who folds herself into something small
sitting on her hands
hoping to blend in
terrified to stand out
or stand up
scared to be seen

and that’s her right
to blend, to bend, to personify resignation
she is graceful and safe in ways I will never be

but I am none of those things
I am a presence, an energy
I speak before spoken to
with a straight back and a straight face
some would say I am too much
and others who are strangers to intimidation
see me in ways I had to learn to see myself
a force to be reckoned with
a lion
a warrior
a mouth that speaks
a goddamn tornado
too strong
too feral
too passionate
too willing to fight and die, if necessary, for what she believes in

and the weak would lie down in the smoke 
if they tried to push down
the wild fire I carry
it rages recalcitrant, often more than even I can handle
but its warmth is there not just for me
but for those who need it and cannot make their own
for those who needed to be carried

so I have to remind myself
that those quiet girls
those yielding and gentle beings
the ones I cannot find
the calm and complacency
in my heart and body to be
likely sometimes wish 
they could be
someone
like me

the blood
& the bones