she pushed me

i filed down mountains for you. chose to be sleet not snow. oh truth! don't ask me again for i must answer. why? because i wanted to understand how it felt to know people. but when i let the pretenders in, they stamped upon my fading stones. sniggered at the 'slush, slush, slush' beneath their boots. before another raindrop fell, so did i begin my work. built five valleys, some seas over there. grew fields, planted stars amid grey moons. oh truth! i know what you're wondering, so i shall tell you. sculpted with hands on stone, earth into mountains, mountains back into home. as for those who sniggered and stamped, they've been left on the snowiest of peaks. 

the unwelcome can make their own way down, now they remember where they are.

- Roxanna