You Did | Sabrina Santa Clara

I did not build a mountain from a molehill,
shoveling earth with each circulation of thought
until exhaustion set in
and there was nothing left to do
but head home, cold to the bone.

I did not expect you to be anything other than what you are.

I did not eradicate your solidity
because you are easily ungrounded.
I did not discount your wisdom
because you sometimes find yourself confused in a cyclone of
thoughts and feelings that
buffet the insides about like a rag doll
while leaving your body rigid in stillness
and your eyes looking out from way behind.

I did not cut you up into pieces,
categorizing you into good parts and bad parts
until you lost the essential combination that made you you.
I did not ever lose sight of you as a whole person,
nor erase your beauty with your imperfections.

You say you sought the quietness in me;
I say it is the quietness in you that you seek.

I am the quiet of the stillness following storm
But also
I am the storm.
I am the breathtaking vibrant of fuchsia and chartreuse with a splash of red,
the restfulness of peach and pink and baby blue,
and the depthfulness of sea green and aquamarine,
But
I am anything but beige.

I did not want you to stifle your colors or
tone them down to suit my tastes.

I did not come barreling full force only to
side-step at the last moment
again, and again.
I did not let you reveal yourself
tender and vulnerable
then tell you that I don’t know who you are.
I did not create the confusion.

Instead,
I chose sanity,
picked up my belongings
and with the quiet you claim not to find in me
calmly walked away.