First, an explanation:
Sometimes words just come to me. One simple thought can be the key that unlocks the flow, an opening of a door to something greater than just me. It’s not planned. There’s no pattern. I can’t control it. It just happens and can happen at any moment.
It often starts from my own self ponderings, one small thought that becomes much more. It’s as if the self ponderings slip me into another realm and I connect to a greater whole; that web of emotional energy floating around the universe.
At that point, it isn’t just about me. It’s a connection to others who have similar struggles. The feelings become mish-mashed between mine and other. Poetry puts words to feelings; feelings that are often hard to express or talk about. We can’t escape from our feelings. They hide at the bottom of our wells growing like mold if we don’t shed light on them.
These words flowing through me and up out of me help release the emotional ups and downs of life. Seeing the words written helps me better understand the humanness of life and brings light to my darkest sorrows. I find forgiveness for myself and others. As I dare to speak my truths, and acknowledge and heal my darkness, I hope my light can shine in the world to help others.
Below is such a poem, and as many of my poems, on the outside it seems sad, but for me, it’s a wonderful release. It’s shining light on my darkest fears, and that, my friends, is a big step in healing and a reason to feel joy.
Do you hate me?
Do you hate me?
My mind knows the answer
as the question
slips into my being
as I sit here
alone
feeling unwanted
Do you hate me?
as I blame myself
for staying away
for isolating
for avoiding those
who might love me
Do you hate me?
as I steel myself
from love
keeping it at a distance
because it hurts too much
up close
Do you hate me?
As I struggle
to not hate myself
for being different,
as I fight off
feelings of guilt
for not being
who I think others
want of me
Do you hate me?
Because my choices
take courage
to choose my own path
to avoid the norm
of what might
be expected of me
Do you hate me?
My mind knows the answer
as the question
slips into my being
as I sit here
alone
feeling unwanted
yet alive
in my creativity.
