Oct 2014
I wake from fading dreams
of soft hymns
and summer skin
Perhaps this is what it’s like
to be at peace
of soft hymns
and summer skin
Perhaps this is what it’s like
to be at peace
3:03am, October 24th 2014
Sorry I've been deleting poems. None of them have felt genuine.
For the first time in my life I've felt at peace with myself. I guess I've had a hard time capturing that in poetry.
I was not a good kid. When I was young I was cruel, selfish and envious. It took me until my late teens to begin seeing these horrible aspects of myself.
I began punishing myself, emotionally and socially. I closed myself off so I wouldn't ever hurt another person. I felt I didn't deserve forgiveness. Any stumbles thereafter were deserved, because no amount of good would erase the bad.
I became disillusioned with my identity and ideals, and consequently became disconnected from the world. I was bitter, cynical and misanthropic.
It took me another three years to admit I was deeply depressed. Alone, nihilistic and suicidal, small flickers of life would appear, but I was reactive, not proactive--a pessimistic defeatist.
I'd grown so much, yet all I could see was who I used to be, rather than who I'd become. Gripped by fear, regret and self-hatred, it took the help of both a counsellor and close friends to open me up again.
I still feel awfully uncomfortable around strangers, but I've found acceptance, comfort and love in friends, and a newfound peace that I don't quite know how to deal with.
Sorry I've been deleting poems. None of them have felt genuine.
For the first time in my life I've felt at peace with myself. I guess I've had a hard time capturing that in poetry.
I was not a good kid. When I was young I was cruel, selfish and envious. It took me until my late teens to begin seeing these horrible aspects of myself.
I began punishing myself, emotionally and socially. I closed myself off so I wouldn't ever hurt another person. I felt I didn't deserve forgiveness. Any stumbles thereafter were deserved, because no amount of good would erase the bad.
I became disillusioned with my identity and ideals, and consequently became disconnected from the world. I was bitter, cynical and misanthropic.
It took me another three years to admit I was deeply depressed. Alone, nihilistic and suicidal, small flickers of life would appear, but I was reactive, not proactive--a pessimistic defeatist.
I'd grown so much, yet all I could see was who I used to be, rather than who I'd become. Gripped by fear, regret and self-hatred, it took the help of both a counsellor and close friends to open me up again.
I still feel awfully uncomfortable around strangers, but I've found acceptance, comfort and love in friends, and a newfound peace that I don't quite know how to deal with.
