PT. 3 WILDFIRE

You sneer with disdain at my unruliness. Your words pierce like daggers in an attempt to shame me into shrivels – just so you can take my pieces and fit me into your porcelain doll once more. 

You see my boldness and uncontrollable fire as something that should be tamed. Understand, that I am a wildfire as much as I am a wildflower; ebbing and flowing with the currents.

You were always one for rigid lines and thoughtless order. Always wanted my head down when I’d very much prefer to have it beam up toward the sun. You despised my affinity for flow in spirit and soul.

I, on the other hand… I’ve never hated your love for lines, only for the fact that you kept trying to keep me in them.