One is quiet and driven by care.
One is loud and fueled by outrage.
You pick.
You pick,
When x disagrees.
When x words insult yours.
When x undermines your stability.
When x says you are nothing.
You are nothing.
You pick,
When you think it doesn’t matter.
When it’s one small comment,
one bite-sized word,
one utterance of a feeling,
a nothing of meaning.
You pick,
thoughtlessly at first.
Instinctively, habitually.
It happens without want or will.
It happens, then happens,
Then happens again.
You pick,
Until it is a worn footpath.
Where your feet have tread,
time and again.
It is familiar and comforting.
It is no decision,
Only being.
You are,
Love.
You are,
Hate.
You picked.
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