I wrote a poem after reading Jamie Tworkowski's blogs on MySpace. I was moved to tears. He is a beautiful person who started
To Write Love On Her Arms [TWLOHA]. You should check his blog out. He is an amazing writer. I wrote this after reading some of the things he wrote that inspired me.
Solace Knew
Solace is knocking on my door.
I don't want it.
I won't let it in.
I need to live this.
I need to leave this.
I need to make it through.
Like the waves that roll to and from the shore,
my pain comes and goes; with hatred and anger
like the seafoam that manifests after the wave is gone.
I have to make it through this trial with no cause.
I have to make it through on my own.
The beauty of your smile will not save my soul.
It has to repair itself.
Remember, you must love yourself before you can be loved.
I will be more honest than I ever have:
I can look in the mirror, into my own eyes
and say with all sincerity
"I do not look at this face,
in these eyes and see beauty.
I do not see potential,
or the possibility to be loved.
There is no light"
This sad prospect may line your eyes with tears.
This horrid truth may flip your world upside down.
And turn that smile to a frown and make the blood rush from your head.
But you know me.
You love me.
I don't love me.
And that's what truly counts.
You and I both know there is nothing in the world
that you can do to change what is set in a stubborn heart.
Just know. . . Just know. . .
that with sorrow seeping into my soul like smoke blackening my lungs; leaving a stench on my clothes
and in my hair, that I love you and always will.
You can smell that smoke.
You know.
I don't blame you, I never did.
But you act as though
you are the only one
who can smell smoke.
I can't go out in public
poisoning people with a frown
like secondhand smoke.
You are solace.
You keep knocking.
And I won't answer.
