How can I be bitter.
Of course you loved me.
You taught me to be gentle, quiet, meek.
You taught me to be subtle, prude, reserved.
An obedient daughter. A model student.
A silent workhorse.
You taught me to be a precious jewel,
fragile and in need of protection.
So I searched for an owner. A caretaker.
A jockey.
If I was misused, I was a victim.
If I was overworked, I was abused.
My identity in the power of their hands,
but never my own.
I won’t be the caged bird that sings its days away.
I’m not waiting for someone to open my cage,
I’ll open it myself.
Watch me fly as nature intended, and I will love you so much deeper this way.
Because I will love you MY way.
There’s no gift more pure that I could give to you.
