This is Who I AM
By Isabella Paco
This is Who I Am
If my feet stumble
Bruised, cut, and bleeding
Will I make it to the end?
As the light flickers through the dark forest
Starved and dirty
They tell me I have been through enough
That the fact that I have made it this far
Is a statement enough
While others tell me it never will be
Work harder, work smarter, be smarter
But how much till it is enough?
I have grown up in a burning home
With the screaming as loud as the bang from the bullet
With the kids hiding under the bed, in the shadows
Because the big monsters are in the living room, in the kitchen
I have grown up on throwing knives for words
Where kids knew only violence in exchange for love
Didn’t know how to turn a rifle into an instrument
Given the tool and told to change the world– firing away
I have grown up in a lightless home
Only flames to keep the halls light
With the fridge and my stomach empty
I made the trek, lifting plastic bags in my hands to get to the finish line
To finish my way home
To make it home to my baby brother, who was too young to know any better
While being told, I am too young to know any better
That– when I am older, I will understand
I have been loved so much that it burned me
And hated so much it bruised and cut
Lost all my friends, family, and loved ones for not being better for the change
I have been beaten, smelted, burned
To become a beautiful sword or maybe a pen to write my story
With the hope that one day, maybe all of this will mean something
When I find the light at the end of the forest,
will it only be a brief moment,
Or will it be the rest of my life?
Will I be able to handle the bright sun in my eyes, even if I only know scalding flames?
Or will I continue to hide in the dark even if I am still scared of it?
I am scared of the answer, but I am not afraid of it
Tussled, scratched, blood seeping out of my molars
I have been through worse for me to back down now
My story will always be never-ending.
