Simply Me

“Simply me”

I’m simply me, at five foot one,
You could call me plain and small.
My eyes and my hair are the same shade of brown
The same as almost everyone else
My hands are much too small, and so are my feet.

“Are you graduating high school soon?”
Lord no, I graduated college!

“You look barely over eighteen!”
My dear, I’m twenty-five going on twenty-six.

“Are you old enough to drink?”
Of course, but I don’t like to, not that much.

I’ve always been tiny, petite for my age
And I feel the gazes bearing down on me
Not just from those who are taller,
But those of authority
I feel them looking down on me, constantly.

Along with my stature
There are secrets you don’t see
No one sees the trouble with my memory
I write it down, and sometimes still forget
It’s led to far too many regrets.

I don’t just forget the little things
Like keys, or change, or chores
There are times where I forget promises.
I see the “heat of the moment” as no excuse
I must remember, tie a string around my finger
And not forget how I’d promised to work it all out.

I also grapple with self-doubt
This idea I’m never good enough.
That the world’s standards for everything
Are so high, insurmountable
And I cannot begin to scale that skyscraper of expectation.

But against my doubt, my stature, my memory
I stand proud with a smile
And a spark in my eye.
With my friends, my family, and my own diligence
I can build my own tower, twice as tall,
One that pierces the sky with my own ambition,
To always be more than what I was dealt in this life.

So you can look on the outside
And you can call me plain and small.
You could see how I’m only five foot one
With small plastic glasses, and a love for jewelry.

But on the inside, it’s much deeper
And so very few get to see
But if you’ve seen it and I’ve given you the key
Consider it my act of trust
And treasure it, for I do not just let anyone inside.