I Hear You

You stand in front of the mirror and take a peek at yourself. Then

you desperately flee from your image, charging up the stairs, your snow boots still on your feet.

You scream, “I hate looking at myself!”

You wail and huff, “I hate the way I look!”

You want to be heard! This time in words. At the top of the stairs.

You want Mommy and Daddy to REALLY know how uncomfortable you feel

in your little boy body, 

to feel the unnamed pain this causes you,

to know the persistent fear that haunts you,

to see the hiding you do under hats and hoods,

to accept that you dislike your name

to help you understand who YOU are

because you feel big

and not so little anymore.

4 thoughts on “I Hear You”

  1. “to see the hiding you do under hats and hoods,” – this line calls to me. ‘To see the hiding’ – what a brilliant articulation of an awareness that runs deeper than every day perception. Also your choice to write in the 2nd person lends another layer of credence to the story unfolding before you.

    Like

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