I am from my birth pillow.
I am from loneliness, sadness...
spaciness...
...I was always looking for something.

I am from dandelions and tall, tall grass.
The breeze sifted through the yard, and the
blades swayed in perfect synchrony.

I am from Christmas Eve at Grandpa's
house, and the low status gifts.  From
****** communication.  From stones, and Nelsons.

I am from living in fear,
and abandonment.  From,"You're like him."
And luckily from, "You weren't MEANT to fit in."

I am from the cross and communion, and then
realizing I cannot see his face in nature's mirror.
With my own reflection being distorted by the glass.

I am from Illinois, and Scandinavian blood...
From potato soup and at times, nothing.
I am from her absence, and how fast she left.

I am from burnt up, few remaining, and rare pictures.
I am from toys I once collected, now melted.  The pillow
I had now gone.

I am from the feeling I had a consumerists mark
on the world, but my impression is more.  More than
toys or things, I have who I am.  My memories.

I have my worth.

It's hard being someone
and even harder
being you

Some days I think I love myself..
Some days I think I’m trying to love myself..
Some days I think I’ll never love myself..
Under this Oscillation ,
burning at the pit of my stomach
is a constant awareness-
I’m yet to, truly love myself..

He pointed at the curve where my mass should be.
The skinny line wherein the whole of my being should fit--
based on what a man in a lab coat said once.
He dashed a tiny spec above it, where I was.
Out of line.
Not fitting in.
Against the rules.
I counted the tiny squares that separated me from my belonging...
… one... two... three...
Three squares from worthiness.
Three squares wrong.
Three squares from deserving love.
Three squares from good enough.
I stared at that dot a man drew for me and discovered brokenness.
I was five.

When I was drinking an drugging I wanted to feel numb
It was my friend
It was faithful
It made me steal to support my habit
Even though I was hurting loved
I was thinking of my own self an my needs
I was lost didn't know who I was
I was trying to find myself through my drinking an drugging
People begged me to stop but I didn't listen
I was thinking of my own selfish needs
Ideas mean an bitter to others
An when I got sick an tired. I didn't know witch direction I was going because I was lost
An when I realized who I was an what I was doing I hated myself
An when I got help
I took day by day, second by second
An after awhile of being sober
It helped me realize that I'm a wonderful person
I'm able to accept things better
An I'm able to look in the mirror now an see my own beauty an how far I came
I love myself now
We are not alone
We have each other to count on
Written by Julie Ann David

your absence has been revealing
the reach of your arms; exposed
my thoughts,
feelings and actions
forever altered from our encounter

I have learned from our departure
you were not the flaw
I was flawed before we met
and now understand that you were my voice
but I haven't spoken since

So many years
Feeling bad about myself
Berating my being
For being
Fundamentally flawed
Fragmented
Irreparable

I wish someone had noticed
Me
Pulling the hair off of my head
Me
Flailing about
Like a trout
Out of water
Me
Stepping on
All of the rakes
Unintentionally
But also
Sometimes
Fully aware
Of where
They were lurking in the grass

And I wish they’d said
To me
Stop
Stop
Stop.
Breathe.
Look around.
You’re ok.
You’re ok.
You’re beautiful
And young
And you couldn’t possibly know
How quickly time runs away.
So stop.
Stop saying
What’s wrong with me?!
You can stop
Because I’m here
To tell you.

What is wrong
With you
Is
That life
Fooled you
Into thinking
That there’s something wrong
With you.