My parents molded me into
The poster child
For immigrant excellence
A bronzed, shimmering chalice
Reading by age three
Writing short stories by age four
Burning brightly in the classroom
Until I couldn't be ignored.
I've been the golden child
My entire life
Smart and driven and ambitious
My creativity wielded like a sharp knife
But everyone turned a blind eye
When it sliced open my skin
What they don't tell you
Is that shiny trophies rust
Turn green in the cupboard
Suddenly collecting dust
My mind turned
Into my greatest enemy
Filling my veins with crippling anxiety
Thinking that I never deserved to be here
Completely and utterly unworthy
All my hard work went to waste
Now that I had gotten a taste
Of how lonely it is at
At the top of the mountain
The want for crystalline perfection
Gutting me from the inside.
YOU ARE READING
querencia ~ poetry
Poetry"let the moon teach you the art of being a mysterious and beautiful woman" ~ alexandra vasiliu
