Honor Myself

I will not sit

where someone else was allowed to sink in.

Where laundry tumbled

and laughter echoed off old walls

that wouldn’t even hold my name.

I will not stand

in the soft ghost of a woman

you gave full access to

while I was folded,

careful,

polite with my presence,

too aware of my own shadow

to take up space.

You tucked my earrings away

like a secret you weren’t proud of.

Small.

Unspoken.

Something to be kept

but never displayed.

So no

if you want to see me now,

meet me where no one else left their scent.

Where the air doesn’t hum with memory

and the cushions haven’t chosen someone else's shape.

I will not sit where she stood.

Not because I envy her

but because I honor myself

too deeply

to be placed on the same shelf

where you store things you’re unsure of.

Invite me somewhere..

Clean.

Neutral.

Without her imprint in the carpet

or your indecision in the walls.

If you want my presence now,

you meet it with intention.

Not out of boredom.

Not out of habit.

But because you understand

that what once folded itself,

now stands.

And what once waited at the edge

has drawn a line

no person walks past

without offering

their whole self.