Outside

It might look
from the outside
that I feel sorry
for myself.
But on the inside
a child is frightened
more than spoiled.
Ashamed to have lost
the sun of the seasons
standing naked and cold.
Alone
in a rain that follows
everyone else’s leaving.
Afraid to step into danger
Afraid to not step into joy
Stuck in the headlights
of someone else’s future.
Knowing that
I have chosen an awkward
lifetime not to be a tree
where, from the outside
I might look just fine.