When the music grows louder than your own heartbeat,
leave.
Not every fire
was lit to warm you.
Some were built
to see
who would burn.
I have watched
bright children
mistake bonfires
for suns,
mistake applause
for love,
mistake poison
for courage
because everyone else
raised the cup.
Listen.
The wolves
never ask
the deer
to prove
its bravery.
Only frightened humans
dare one another
to become less alive.
If the room
smells of lies,
step outside.
The moon
has never mocked
a child
for choosing air.
And if someone
weeps
behind a practiced smile—
do not laugh
because the others laugh.
A heart
calling from a well
is not a performance.
It is an echo
begging
for another voice.
Call an elder.
Call a parent.
Call for help.
You are a candle,
not a lighthouse.
You are not meant
to keep every ship
from breaking.
When they call you
coward,
remember—
the oak
does not bend
to impress
the reeds.
When they call you
snitch,
remember—
the raven
has never apologized
for crying
Fire.
Fire.
Fire.
Some flocks
will scatter from you.
Let them.
Better
to walk beside
one true soul
than feast
with a hundred masks.
I have buried
many kings.
I have buried
many queens.
I have buried
the beautiful,
the admired,
the feared.
Do you know
what I have never buried?
Truth.
Truth
has roots.
It waits beneath
the snow,
patient
as spring.
One day,
those who laughed
will wonder
why the forest
still whispers
your name.
And I,
old woman
with moss
in my pockets
and stars
caught
in my crooked hair,
will place
a lantern
at the edge
of the woods
for every child
who chose
to walk home
instead
of becoming
lost.
Baba Yaga The Wise 
Leave a comment