Don’t tell me I’m too much

just because you were too little to hold me.

You needed soft, pliable silence,

and I came with thunder

stitched into every syllable.

You loved the spark

but flinched at the flame.

You called me wildfire,

but tried to keep me in a candle jar.

Wanted my heat in your hands,

but not the smoke in your lungs.

You wanted me to glow,

not burn.

You praised my power