Being Loved

I have become who I am quite by chance.

The dance at two didn’t open any new doors

The floors were slippery and traction a mere

Fraction of what I really needed to blast

Past the tedium of being small and dependent

On all those other people who cared less for me

Than I cared for me. They, too, had themselves

To spoil to protect from too much loving and

Shoving in line. Didn’t growing up mean you

Found ways to get by without lying without

Pinching your little brother just to annoy your

Mother? Whatever happened to all those

Lofty intentions and the inventions you dreamed

Would lift you above the crowd where loud

Usually won the attention we all wanted. When all

we ever needed was to be loved just for ourselves.