Breathe Like Poetry

Words by Willow Martin

You’re too much,

Not like the ones on glossy screens

With filtered skin and paper dreams.

They say:

Be quiet, be sweet,

Shrink your fire, tuck your feet.

Little girl, sit still.

The world won’t bend to your will—

But take the rot, make it bloom,

Grow wild roses in your room.

Turn rust into gold,

Sing storms where silence should be.

When they hush you,

Rise anyway—

And breathe like poetry.