Learned and
Polished and
The crooked made straight
Dots and crosses

Or making not a sound,
For errors They made–

I am ready.

I arrived early
And my face hurt,
The over smile
Hiding the natural poise.
Head high, but not too,
Blending into the
Until I am called forth–

I have arrived.

And yet…
Where am I to sit?
The arrangement
Does not require they
Save a seat for me.
I am the background
Until I am called forth.
Until I am called forth
There is no room.

But I learned!
I bear the trophies
And the scars!
I am polished!
I tore away the other
At the roots!
Pulled it and broke it
Until it was worthy
Of your glare!
And I agreed with you
And you pointed to me
As Evidence!
Breaking my body
And reforming into
Something new
Unchained to The Past
That you said I should
Get Over

I made not a sound
Ignoring those who
Spoke too much
And too often,
As you required.
If we don’t talk about it
It will go away
And there will be room.

And I arrived.
And I waited.
And waited.
I smiled
And you did not see me
One did, and even
Smiled back.
Called me over
And spoke on my behalf
And we were the same
But mostly you
And you turned
And sent me away again.

I cleared my throat
And you turned
And told me to wait.
And I asked for room
Over enunciating
So that I didn’t
Hurt your ears
Sensitive and unused
To hearing me speak,
And you said that I was
Too loud
And besides
There was no room.

The weight around my neck
As did my head
And my hair
And my voice
And I left you there
And I did not look back
And you did not notice
My absence
And I over enunciated
My apology
To Them,
Whom I had avoided.
They called me over
And together we made something

We made many sounds
A cacophony of brilliance
They, learned,
And I, learning
And we were beautiful
And we did not wait
We made new again.

And you saw us from the corner
And you could not hear
Our words
And you pretended
Not to listen
And we laughed louder
And you moved closer
And said we hurt your ears
And you were angry
At us
For creating
Our own table
And now that
You are listening
And you have moved slightly
And made enough room
For one of us
Why do we have our own table?

You do not ask to sit
You simply move in
And you claim it
As your own.
You keep a few to reference
Every now and again
To remind yourself
That we are the reason
Different tables exist
Because if we were
Learned and polished and refined and well spoken and
There would be room
You forget that the room
That you claim as yours
Will never belong to you
And you will keep looking
From the corner of your eye
For us to take it
For more to take.

I am not afraid.
We will make new again.
There will be room.


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