Like a doll  

 Sherlyan Lebrón Rodríguez 
Departamento de Programa y Enseñanza
Facultad de Educación, UPR RP

Recibido: 13/03/2026; Revisado: 04/05/2026; Aceptado: 13/05/2026

I used to be a doll,  
molded to fit their hands,  
posed, polished, quiet, polite.  
The hardest thing to shape? My words.   

Was I ever theirs to shape?  
To fulfill expectations?  
To shrink myself for their comfort?  
I am not a doll.   

Every time I spoke my mind,  
I became a rebel.  
Too honest.  
Too sensitive.  
Too human.  

And yes, I am human.     

Speaking was freedom.  
Like fire in my hands.  
Like breaking the silence that tried to cage me.  
Like showing the world,  
I exist.  

I found others,  
sparks hidden in the shadows,  
voices humming like wind through hollow streets,  
laughter that echoed where walls tried to swallow it.  

We spoke our truths in flickers and roars,  
built small universes  
in corners that weren’t meant for us.  
We protected our rights,  
claimed our space,  
and left trails of light  
for anyone still learning to burn.  

I learned to shift  
the loudest, the quietest,  
the observer, and the storm  
depending on who watched.   

Not everyone liked it.  
Not everyone liked me.  
For speaking.  
For resisting.  
For being alive.    

But my voice?  
My voice is unshakable.  
It is my power,  
My shield, my weapon.  
I speak.  
I rise.  
I burn brighter than fear.   

I am no doll.  
I speak because I must.  
Because to stay silent,  
would be to lose myself entirely. 

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Posted on May 20, 2026 by CRiiAS.