why was it my responsibility?

a poetic piece reflecting on my upbringing.

Photo by Fleur on Unsplash

butterflies floating around my head,

i am encased in a lepidopteran halo.

sometimes,

i wish i had silk-like wings to flutter

and drift through open air

without a care.

could you imagine how

ethereal it would be to

wrap your body up in

extensions of yourself?

i think

if i had been able to find sanctuary

within a built-in blanket of my own

anatomy, i might have been better

at protecting my younger self.

but then again,

why was it my responsibility

to keep myself safe when i was little?

why was i told

to fend for myself when

i didn’t have the tools to do so?

☽