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Yellow stains the edge of every thoughtLike pages in a book aged by timeLike beauty papers, I never asked to holdAnd maybe I am KarenDancing too fast to stopChasing a dream I swore was mineThey want me to march To take my fists and make them tools...

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Yellow stains the edge of every thought
Like pages in a book aged by time
Like beauty papers, I never asked to hold
And maybe I am Karen
Dancing too fast to stop
Chasing a dream I swore was mine
They want me to march
To take my fists and make them tools for a nation
But what about the tools I shaped in my hands?
The words I stacked like bricks
The dreams I threaded through fabric
The stories I bent to my will?
What about those?
I am not brave, not in the way they need
I am brave in the way I stay up at night
Fighting a battle no one sees
My mind waging wars against the silence
Brave in the way I still dream
Even when the world tells me
There is no room for people like me
Do you understand what it means
To want something so much it aches?
Fifteen years of holding my breath
For a chance to touch America
Not just as a postcard dream
But as a place where I can be
Fifteen years, and the air grows thinner
I am around the pain of eighteen to twenty souls
But the weight of my own existence
Makes me feel ancient
My little self would cry for me now
Would hold my hand and ask
Why couldn't the world couldn't be softer
Why dreams had to feel like red shoes
I can't take off, even when they hurt
And maybe this will never be read
Maybe I'll be someone's memory by then
Married, children pulling at my skirt
Telling them the story of how I once fought
For something invisible
Would I laugh?
I don't know how to stop wanting more
I don't know how to quiet my heart
The part that keeps yelling
"This isn't enough!"
But is it wrong to want to rewrite the rules?
To not want a life that feels
Like a duty, like a box
Like a script someone else wrote for me?
Tell me, have you ever wanted something
So bad that it kept you alive
And killed you at the same time?

Yellow stains the edge of every thoughtLike pages in a book aged by timeLike beauty papers, I never asked to holdAnd maybe I am KarenDancing too fast to stopChasing a dream I swore was mineThey want me to march To take my fists and make them tools...

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The red shoes are heavy
Not for dancing
But for carrying dreams
That no one else believes in
Each step feels forced
A duty stitched into the fabric of my life
And I wonder
If I took them off
Would I be free or just lost?
I've fought for dreams that grow heavier
Fifteen years of wanting a life
Beyond these borders
Beyond this place that calls me back
Its weight pressing against my chest
They say I should be grateful
And I am
For food, for shelter, for surviving
But does surviving mean I should stop dreaming?
Somewhere, my younger self is crying
She wouldn't recognize this person
Her feet bound to shoes
She never asked to wear
She'd ask why I don't run
Why I don't scream louder
And maybe I should
But even voices crack under the weight
Of all that could have been
And yet, I want more
Not out of greed
But because these dreams are all I have
I've been waiting to breathe
Somewhere I don't have to fight the air itself
Somewhere the red shoes can finally come off.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 26 ⏰

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