she shook

she shook like a little giant in big boots and like a leaf in the wind, she shook like an earthquake was rocking her, our, world, she shook as she stood up and gathered her courage and her voice and she said

i am here!

but the quiet words didnt carry through the open everywhere air, they didnt spark notice in those around her, they drifted over water and back into calm nooks were they fell down and slept again, quiet, exhausted, spent.

and so she looked down at her little feet in her big big boots and thought

maybe i am not here, after all

and the conversations around her kept happening, about her, despite her

but she looked at her fingers and thought but i think i am here and she looked into her heart and thought but i feel like i am here and her deep down soul whispered

of course you are here

but she was weary weary weary of the fight to voice her life. couldnt people see it? couldnt they ask the questions? couldnt they stop stepping on her toes so she didnt have to wear such heavy clunky boots? and so she sighed and sat down in a corner, wrapped up in heavy sweater and heavy thoughts and let herself rest in the melancholy of forgotteness

but her heart kept singing to her

and as she let the melody lift her spirits

she knew

they werent truly forgetters of that worst mean kind, they were forgetters in the way she was, in the way we all are when life is onwards-and-upwards

and she knew

she was worth hearing

and so she let herself sit and sit and sit through the nighttime and for four more days and nights, sleeping and laughing and singing to herself, gathering the fire in her heart, building her own remembrance

and when she emerged she put back on her big boots to protect the tender toes and she stood up again and she whispered

do you remember me

and the birds chirped back

and she said can you see me, all of me

and the wind whistled in response

and she cried

i am here i am here i am here

and the world sang

welcome

and though the cars passed by on the road and the boats kept on slowly drifting, the voices still speaking and the people busy busy busy on their ways to their better places, she knew she had spoken her truth

and whether they listened was their choice

but she had spoken and here she was

brave enough to

exist.

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