I was born in a world of caterpillars,
where crawling was the only way.
They whispered rules in hushed traditions,
Stay in line. Don’t dream. Obey.
But I felt wings beneath my skin,
silent tremors, colors bright.
They warned me, Change is dangerous,
so I hid them out of sight.
Still, the hunger swelled inside me,
pulling toward a different sky.
A cocoon of doubt and longing
where I learned to say goodbye.
Goodbye to fear, to shrinking,
to fitting in a borrowed mold.
Hello to every shade I carry,
soft and fierce, and bright, and bold.
And when I finally broke wide open,
stretching wings the sun could see,
they stared—some in awe, some in anger,
for I was not what I should be.
But I am air, I am movement,
I am wind and endless flight.
No matter how they try to ground me,
I was born to chase the light.
