A Quiet Rebellion

I have stood in the shadow of others,

Fingers stretched like roots,

Desperate to please, to bend,

Until my skin split like an overripe fruit.

They spoke in the language of their needs,

And I wore their wishes like a dress,

Too tight, too worn,

Until I could barely breathe beneath the seams.

But now, in the silence,

I gather my bones like fragments of forgotten dreams—

I piece them together with soft, steady hands,

Each scar a testament to the fire that once consumed me,

Now just a whisper in my throat.

Healing is not in the rush of light,

But in the slow, deliberate mending,

A quiet rebellion,

Refusing to bend to the weight of demands

That doesn't bear my name.

I am no longer the mirror of their desires,

No longer the ash to their flames.

Resilience is the space between my breaths,

The courage in the empty places I refuse to fill.

I am learning,

Slowly,

To be more than what they wanted me to be—

To be my own steady,

Bright,

Wild heart.

I rise, not for them,

But for me.

Sumayah Mittal is a young dedicated writer based in India, with a passion for exploring a variety of themes and emotional dynamics in her works.