Sometimes,
i wish i had hollows for cheeks
so your hands would brush
an e m p t y s p a c e
filled only with the weakness
that you think i possess.

Sometimes,
i wish my smile revealed
histories of stories untold,
the crux of a plot
now never to unfold,
the heart of soul
that didn't mind going cold.

Sometimes,
i wish i stood a little taller
so i could e
                      s
                         c
                             a
                                  p
                           ­          e
the condescending petting of your hand.

                   floating fingers

                      that land
only to let your fingers glide
along the few strands
of unnecessary ambitions
that run deep in my brain.

Sometimes,
i wish i could shrink
back into the flames
that left me with the thirst for more.
i wish to go to back to the times
that you thought i could not settle a score,
when you saw me as weaker than i was before
when you thought that
my only refuge was
the cold hard floor.

Sometimes
i think that you hold me -
all 5-feet-nothing-chubby-cheeks-childish-smile-bulging-tummy-old-l­oose-clothes
i think that you hold me
to a lower standard than what i started out with.

Sometimes,
you make me want to scream
my strength out.

Sometimes,
i feel like breaking forts and castles purely made of doubt.
Sometimes,
i even wonder what a book about me be about?
an above average worker
or a little girl with a big mouth?

Sometimes,
you make me want to underachieve -
to grieve for my triumphs,
because now,
they need to sit in full public view.

***** you.