I was born a sad blessing.
Only vaguely wanted.
My failure was expected,
Their disappointment was inevitable.
But they still put the world,
Their world,
On my shoulders.
So I carried it.
I pointed my toes,
And skipped my meals.
I sharpened my bones and teeth into daggers.
And I bit and clawed my way to victory,
Their victory.
It was all for them.
But my once alive and vibrant heart
Was growing into a vacant meadow.
Cruel time dulled my sharp teeth,
And melted my bones.
I couldn’t carry their little world,
Not anymore.
Maybe I would never be that good again.
Maybe I would never be that powerful again.
All I had left to do was to see my own world.
To carry it.
To not let it be crushed
Under the weight of their world.
Not now.
Not again.
inspired by the portrait of George Wesley Bellows and a string of pearls found in the Dorsky Museum of Art.
