It’s funny
how I forgave you
with all my heart,
yet I still
want to punch you
in the face.
Category: Poems
Forgiveness II
Forgiveness
Isn’t what I thought it would be
It wasn’t a magical, one-time event
It is a process I must continue every day
that’s never truly finished
It isn’t a steady, uphill climb toward healing
It is feeling I’ve completely forgiven you one day
and hating your guts the next
It isn’t neat and tidy
It is as messy as the pain it is trying to resolve
but still,
I am choosing it.
(written fall 2018)
Forgiveness I
I wish you’d understood
the true depths of my pain
so you could understand
the true depths of my forgiveness
(written fall 2018)
Honorable Disrespect
“You have to respect him,
because he’s the president.”
I disagree.
It takes impressive honesty,
impressive morals,
impressive compassion
to earn my respect.
I will never respect someone
for solely an
impressive
title.
Come Alive Anyway
You may fear
that if you come alive
people won’t like
who you truly are.
I’m going to spoil the ending:
some people WON’T like
who you truly are.
Come alive anyway.
A Massacre I Welcome
To grow,
we must accept
death after death
of the selves
we used to be
to make room
for the births
of the selves
we will become
A massacre
I welcome
(written summer 2019)
The 8th Deadly Sin
Cowardice
Should be the 8th deadly sin
Because behind every evil man
are 10,000 cowards
too afraid
to stand up to him.
(written Jan. 2019)
Suit of Armor
I wore my suit of armor
with so much energy,
so much tension,
that my body started breaking down
inside
Raindrops
Your words and actions
are like raindrops
that fall on every person and thing
you meet
Sometimes, they fall on rocks
that remain unchanged and unaffected
as you roll off of them
Sometimes, they fall on sponges
that drink you in
and allow your essence,
good or bad,
will seep into their pores.
Always speak and act
with compassion
For you never know
when you’re meeting a sponge
And sometimes,
just one of your tiny drops
can be an ocean of clean water
for someone dying of thirst
or a violent storm
for someone whose foundation
was already
crumbling
(written summer 2019)
Mr. Nott
There was a teacher
in my high school
who was strange
in the best possible
way.
Many people made fun of him,
even other teachers.
But he helped me,
an outcast,
a weirdo,
who frequently thought about suicide,
to see I wasn’t
alone.
That’s when I decided
that it is better
to deeply impact a few
than to superficially please
many.
(written Dec. 2017)
*This poem is dedicated to its eponym, Mr. Robin Nott. Thank you, Mr. Nott, for your wisdom and authenticity. Through being who you genuinely are, you inspired me to do the same.
Musings and Music 