Amelia James Poetry

You took it with hands
That didn’t ask permission,
Claiming what was never yours to hold.
My girlhood—
A fragile, shimmering thing,
Bound in innocence and wonder—
Torn from me before I could name it.

It was mine first.
Mine to cradle,
Mine to grow into,
Mine to guard like a secret
Until I chose to share its light.

But you—
You turned memories into weapons,
Sharp edges slicing through my thoughts,
Every recollection a wound that won’t heal,
Every flashback a war I fight alone.

Now I am left,
Piecing together the fragments,
Trying to remember
What it felt like to belong to myself,
To live without the weight of you.

Give it back—
The laughter untainted,
The dreams unbroken,
The me I might have been
If not for the shadow of you.

It was mine first.
And though I may never reclaim it,
I will rise from the wreckage,
Wielding your weapons
To forge a life that is mine again.

-Amelia James