She built a box, tidy and neat, perfectly sculpted to sit upon on her shelf
The light tilted to highlight the fine edges of its joinery
Made of glass with a little plinth of a stage inside
Draped in the illusion of velvet and luxury

She lured me first with promises of love
But then of tribe, of heart connected friendship
Claiming to revere me, to appreciate who I am
To value my depth, my uniqueness

She saw what I did not, drawing me in more
Swooning, she nudged till the words burst forth
And I could no longer contain them. No longer wanted to.
Her supposed honoring of me, and my art

Only, does she love my words, love me?
How can she? When I speak with passion
Simply answering the questions asked
When I am myself, in my skin
Over and over, with a voice weighted with judgment
Masked in the traipsing of concern to hide her own impairments from herself
She says “You are so big. Just so too big!”

Her words cast a familiar shame into my every crevasse
Seeking to retreat, I slip into her box, into the familiarity of such a confine
She is not the first to put me in a container.
Like a butterfly raised in a jar, a box was my childhood home
Thinking myself a worm, I became accustomed to my jail,
Its tight confines becoming so known
I came to seek the box of my own accord

Only, I am not too big, except for this box.
It is tiny, it’s welcome is a mirage.
A true prison.
My face presses against the glass
Smearing my features into grotesque forms
Body contorted into a tiny square shape
As if with her words, I lost all my bones, not just my spine

Her box chokes me, wrings the essence out of me.
There is no air inside, in my attempt to breath
I quickly remember, I hate the box.

She wants me inside, lid closed on the narrow confined space.
To silence me, squish me.
Keep me on display, her prize to be seen
Open the lid from time to time, and let me spin about on the stage
But only for her pleasure, until she tires of my glow.

But like the box was my cocoon
I flew out, into the full glory of me
I will not go back
If I am too big, it is only for your box
I am not too much. You are too small

The box you built is for you
But I will not be the one to put you there

© 2023 Kelly Bowen Arts / Invisible Girl Media