don’t call me resilient
like it’s a crown
i wanted to wear
don’t paint me
in gold resurrection
and say “look how she rises"
as if I’m a phoenix
by choice
not necessity
you praise my strength
like it grew wild and free
from power
not grief
but darling—
my resilience
was not a poem
it was a scream
it was duct tape
and deadlines
and trembling hands
on the wheel
and nights crying
on cold linoleum
while the world insisted
i was tough
and had it all together
it was smiling in rooms
where i was bleeding
it was laughing
so no one would ask
why my eyes looked like
they remembered the war
so no
resilience isn’t a compliment
it’s a scar
you named beautiful
because you didn’t want to look
at the wound
it’s the armor
you admired
so you wouldn’t have to ask
why i needed it
you say
“you’re so strong”
i hear
“you can take more”
but what if i don’t want to?
what if
my vulnerability
is more essential
than my ability to
take a hit?
what if feeling my feelings
all the way down
is fierce reclamation
of my authentic self?
what if i want
a life that bares
the naked inconvenient truth
in my teeth
not just the sword
in my smile?
what if i am
just as strong
in my grief
and tender overwhelm
as i am when i’m carrying on
or as you like to say—
walking it off?
what if i’m tired of compliments
that support hiding
the fractures and bruises
so you can be comfortable?
i refuse to be
a crime scene coverup
i refuse to be complicit
in falsifying my truth
so i can win your esteem
like there’s a trophy
for suffering
and a reward for silence
no
i’d rather hear
how brave i am
to be real in a world
that benefits from fakery
how courageous
i am to feel my fear
and still show up fully
shaking and imperfect
that i am a badass
for wearing reckless joy
bigger than my damage
now that, dear patriarchy,
is a compliment
*************
Poem © Angi Sullins