What Remains

I stubbornly spurned
what the world tried to make me
tried to make me believe

As quietly as possible
I didn’t want to make a fuss

I almost doubted myself
into a graveyard of conformity
But the grandmothers
soothed and scolded from their crypts
pleading me on

I kicked and rebelled
inner mutiny often ensued
I retreated
but I always returned

I silently screamed and wept myself
inside out

Until I
was all that remained

JANE O’SHEA
from ‘In Your Smallest Pocket’