The Monster Behind Us

Some ten years ago I wrote this poem about my own demise,

And the streets were only black and white –

No gray and no compromise.

Nobody ever read it because I did not want them to know.

I just let the sadness take the wheel

As I sat back in the last row.

No, that is not true, I was really pushed down on my bare knees,

Praying that someone could hear me

And burn my apologies.

Nobody ever knew it because I hid under my luminous titles.

Achievements can be the carrot,

But they can also be the monster behind us.

Now I sit here a decade later with an army of me in the corner,

Sharpening blades and nurturing love,

And crossing all the borders.

Nobody ever dares to tell me that my words hold no meaning.

Some want me to fear the looks they throw

But I am done with bleeding.

Still, I think about the poem and how I thought I knew the end.

Now I would rather be the bad actor

Than make someone else’s amends.

Some might find it cruel, some might find it very characteristic,

But no matter what they call it,

I deserve to be here even when I risk it.

-Jackie