Malleable
Touch me, move me
Re-shape my clay
I was malleable
You hands were given (birth right) honour
I will un-mess me, the dreams
live on, of one day
Place the crown on my own head
No sculptor
Dismissing all the words they never said
Entering through crevices and cracks
They can hear me in silence
Pottery wheels and mouths of wonder,
living free, and untaped
See me when my heart sleeps
See the child’s beating heart
The warm arms around me
Never choosing to manipulate my peaks
Celebrate my magic with the spray
paint
and revel in my ART
They turned dishes into wastelands
knives stabbing me, in handle-turning, sighs
Once they’d taken all the feed
I was so happy until I told you
Not telling you, with prodding sticks
The wet hands
that accuse me of being sticky
Neck strain for all of time
Curiosity on which are the lies?
You’re not even worthy of my landscape
Rising - you’re not taking centuries, of my time
You were my over-the-shoulder
Can’t-make-it
rear view
And now the hands round the wheel,
clay fingers, dirty, throbbing, idea-drenched nails
Dig their claws in
The honing that is mine
You were looking for perfection
and I was breathing through expression
That you have no place trying to define
..
work-in-progress, say it till you believe it, know it, you are worthy, you are enough, you matter, you bring the world joy,
if they don’t see you it’s their loss
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