A mother’s shadow.
A shadow looms over me,
Not demonic,
But binding still,
A little girl befret of sanctuary,
I cover beneath it,
And the shadow looms over me,
Tendrils holding me close,
Closing in on me,
Blinding me.
Defining me, building me, protecting me,
Caging me.
It settles under my skin,
Stopping me from committing treason or sin,
But also stopping me from fully living,
Like a bonsai tree,
Reduced to an ornament,
I am a mere possession,
To be coveted and flaunted,
A pawn to avenge those who wronged her
Those that belittled me,
A pawn to be forever caught in that war,
My very existence?
A validation,
A testament,
To her powers of sacrifice and righteousness,
Her shadow looms over me,
Binding me with love,
Oh, little bonsai,
How lucky you are to have a pot to grow in,
To be caged and crippled and shaped in,
Safe from nature’s harsh forces,
Protected.
And then handed,
From one master to another,
Saved from the wrath of my potential,
Saved from being a momentary supernova,
That could change the world,
If allowed to,
Reduced instead to a flickering candle,
Living through others,
Lasting longer,
Helping longer,
And yet being forgotten and wasted,
Leeched off.
Ever conscious of the cage,
The shadow defines me,
Like a leash to a pole,
Not letting me grow beyond,
The shadow follows,
No matter how hard I run,
It has roots in me,
Beneath my skin,
Pulsating with every beat,
I rage against it,
Even when it protects me,
I am distant from it,
Yet hoping to please it,
A little girl at its mercy,
A woman unable to leave,
Constantly cowering, rebelling, and begging,
The shadow flows through my veins,
Never letting me escape the dimensions of its golden cage,
Scaring me with tales,
Of little girls who dared to escape,
Of those that grew to their full capacity,
Those that were struck down by lightning.
The shadow protects me.
From being myself,
Presenting the easy road,
Of losing one’s self,
A lifetime of servitude,
Grooming me to take her place,
In a vicious cycle of generational abuse.
And yet…
I escape.
I escape?
I escape like an arrow fired,
Ready to make my own mistakes,
To have an identity,
Beyond being someone’s scape,
Beyond someone’s love,
Beyond the shadow’s safety cage,
Like Rapunzel away from her tower…
I escape.
I escape,
To have a life,
Shaped by the shadow,
But not defined,
And yet…
I fail.
It defines me,
This shadow that looms over me,
A pet cannot survive the wilderness,
It has not that capacity,
And in my glorious escape,
I beckon the shadow,
Clinging to shreds of familiarity,
Unable to let go of its toxicity,
Scared of mistakes,
Scared of troubling it for me,
Scared of hurting it,
Scared of losing the familial,
In my quest to be me.
I escape?
No, when I tried,
I failed.
The shadow continues to look over me,
I am still defined by it,
Defined by running towards it,
Or from it,
Unable to escape it,
Everything it conquers,
All options it becomes,
To or for from it,
Unable to recognise my roots,
I let the gardener shape me,
Into a Lady Lazarus,
Trying to escape,
Yet tied,
Even in my escape.
Defined by this enormous shadow,
Can I ever be myself?
-Anjali.
