By Kristin H., TIWP Student

Remember me
To write
To fight
To be or not to be
A poet
A knight
A fighter
A leader
A shining light
A disappointment.
A failure.
Alone.
The individual.
You’re alone, but you’re not alone
You’re not by yourself.
Who are you without another
If the tree falls with no one to listen?
Will I be remembered?
Have I done enough?
Will you remember me,
When my roots are torn beneath my feet
And the winter snow comes
To take my leaves and all that exists of me here
How will you remember me?
She was nice, you’ll say
Kind
Quiet
Helpful
Amicable
Easygoing
Soft.
Well-behaved
Unremarkable
Easily forgotten
Unremarkable, she was no one to remember
Is that who I’ve become?
Likeable, and docile
I benefit you, but I never won
I was your friend, but you weren’t mine
I helped you when you fell
But you walked past me
Stepping on me like a doormat, wiping the dirt off your soles.

In wanting to be kind,
To make the world a kinder place,
I was crushed and flattened.
Molded into society’s standards
Of what it means to be nice.
I’m tired of this persona
I’m forced to maintain
That I never molded myself in the first place.
I’m alone but I have no autonomy
Consumed by the pressure of standing out
To mean something
To be a contributor to this society,
Who never wanted me in the first place—
Using me to uplift everyone else
But me.

I sit here in your classroom
You discuss class structure, the unfairness and mistreatment of the lower class
How unremarkable they are, they are rarely mentioned and hardly relevant.
In a room filled with foolish, naive teenagers who have never been outside their hometown
Never seen a food bank, a shelter, a rural countryside without running water
But you know all of it, just because you go to some name school only the rich know about
To think you know the world, you’ve already found the meaning of life
It’s obvious, because it was handed to you on a silver platter, gold fork in hand
And your expensive knowledge makes you above everyone else because you’re educated
And they’re not.
it was paid for you, made just for you
Paying thousands upon thousands to grow up to be a fool
To be blind to what it means to actually live.
How ironic it is, that you sit there in a classroom
Believing you know everything about the world beyond your stupid bubble.

I yearn for change
A clean slate
I want to build anew
I don’t care if you think I’m insensitive
Or selfish
Or blind to your needs and whatnot
I exist to serve myself, to do what I want to do
I’m tired of being your coffee table, your footrest, your coathanger
I will leave your stupid bubble that you’ve submerged me in this whole life
To mold and shape my own persona
Who’s selfish, self-serving, and a fighter
A writer
A shining light
Alone but self autonomous.
Do not remember me.