Crown of Madness

By Willow Isobel

You say I am too much,
A storm ripping through your calm,
A flame too wild to tame —
But my friends will dance in my fires,
Praise the sparks that light the dark.

I have no need to be understood,
No craving for your approval.
It’s a leash that chokes the breath,
A weight that sinks the spirit.
I am done with pleasing,
Done with bending into shapes
To fit your shallow molds.

Call me mad —
Mad as the moon,
As a sea crashing against the cliffs.
I will wear my madness
Like a crown,
Wear my tears
Like jewels, like storms.

I am not yours to soften,
Not here to be small, to be quiet.
I am what you fear —
Fierce, female, aflame.
Too much, too loud, too alive.
And I will burn
Until the world turns to ash.

Willow Isobel is a 21-year-old poet from Cornwall, England. Her poetry is an exploration of identity, resilience, and the raw, untamed emotions that shape our human experiences.