I wake from fading dreams
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.