Her roar was louder than her soft, gentle voice ever was.
It hurt my eardrums,
It made me want to cover my ears with my hands,
But I didn’t.
She used to be timid,
She used to be prey.
No longer would she ever be preyed on,
No longer could anyone quiet her.
In her newfound boldness,
Her love was as ferocious as it was before.
Because it had never been a weakness.
Her hot, fiery breath was warm, comforting,
Impossible to ignore.
She once was a rabbit,
Sitting quietly in the grass,
Hiding, trying not move,
Trying not to breathe,
Praying she wouldn’t be seen.
Her mane was wild,
The curls bouncing,
The tangles unapologetically large,
Matted with dirt and sweat.
She stood in the sun,
Stretching instead of running,
No longer afraid to take up space.
She turned to me and said,
“Never again will I be a rabbit.”