Confronting the pain
When I was a little girl,
I dreamed of conquering the world
and all its ailments.
Perhaps that’s where my problems began,
thinking I could bear the burden.
I am tired. Of the unhappiness. Of the sadness. Of the anger. Of the emptiness. What a joy it would be, to be happy about something, even if it seems like nothing at all.
[Searching for salvation]
I have learned to master the art
of picking myself up when I fall.
I’ve asked myself, “How do you do it?”
How have you not broken down yet?
Truth is
I’ve broken down in many ways.
The worst way
was pretending
I have it all together,
when I was dying inside.
[Faking the funk]
These emotions are too heavy
for me to carry.
Even when I let one go,
out comes another.
Maybe this is my body telling me
to feel the moment,
then let it drift away.
[But I can’t]
How do I forgive those who aren’t sorry?
How do I accept an apology I’ll never receive?
How do I practice grace upon those who wronged me?
Maybe forgiveness isn’t the answer.
Maybe it’s overrated.
[Choosing anger]
I have watered those who sucked the life out of me. I have given so much that I’ve become empty. I want that water back. Maybe give it to me, to remind myself of fullness. But I’ve become so empty that I no longer care to be watered. Just noticed. Appreciated, and tended to. I have nothing left to give to myself. So now I’m searching for something, anything, to fill me again.
[Hopeless]
