Friday, March 15, 2013

a poem to all the broken ones

Tonight I write this poem to all the broken ones
Tonight I am going to write about the one who is gone.
The one who ate my heart.

I believed you.
when you told me
that I was important.
when you told me 
that you loved me.
and that we were going to be together forever.

and all the little treasures 
the postcards we made for each other
in the newness
when I was absent
not knowing what the other was doing.

I gave you my heart
I would have died for you
I laid down before you 
To walk on me 
if you need to
I said I will protect you

I said I will work three jobs
for you.
I did everything I could
for a moment
of your attention
for a moment
of being good enough
for a moment 
of being close to you.

And you ate my heart.
you ate my soul
you ate my money
and then said more.

I said I have nothing left to give
and you said give me yourself
so I handed my self to you.
and you said more.

I said I have nothing left to give
you have my heart
my soul
my money
and my self
and you said more.

I said I have nothing left to give
I was the giving tree 
and you were my boi
and you said more.

I said I am but a stump
would you like to sit on me.
you said stumps are useless
and hired someone to dig me up 
and turn me into mulch.
then you threw me away.
you though I was worthless.

but look at me now.
I am not only surviving
I am thriving
I am healing from your abuse.

I took my mulch
and planted a flower
there might be many flowers
but this is my rose
so s/he is the most beautiful rose
because s/he is mine.
and s/he needs me
and I tend to hir everyday.

And you have taught me
I will never lay down for someone
I will never give myself to another
I will keep myself
I will tend my garden 
and it will be my garden alone

but I will share my garden
bois and grrls will come
and share my garden with me
but it will always be my garden

I am much stronger now
thanks to you.
Despite the rumors you spread
I know I gave you everything I had to give
In the end I saw you were only trying to fill your own emptiness

I walk down the street
with my head held high
because I have rebuilt my garden
and it is more beautiful than the garden
I once gave freely to you.

I know I gave you everything I had
and you trampled my garden
you picked all my flowers
claimed they were your own
kicked the dirt around
expecting my garden to die
from your wrath

I gave you seeds
and nutrient rich dirt
and water
and lots of sunshine.
I told you how to grow your own flowers
but you only wanted to say more.

do I still love you?
as much as the birds love to fly
but I stopped liking you a long time ago
I left you many years before my body was gone

I left you when I started saying
I am a person.
despite you telling me otherwise
I just kept saying it
I am a person.
You became meaner
more abusive
but I just kept saying
I am a person
nothing more
nothing less
I am a person.

and then I was gone.
and you were mad that you
no longer had control
you were mad that I took away my garden.
you were mad that you could no longer steal my flowers.
you could not accept that I was a person.
maybe you still can't
maybe you lie awake at night 
clutched to my dog that you kidnapped
hating yourself

but I do not hope that for you.
I hope that you finally planted those seeds 
and started tending your own garden
I hope you've figured out
what your actions did
I hope that you learn to love yourself
And love others
To have compassion and forgiveness
For yourself and others
because that is the only way your garden will grow
and I want your garden to grow.
because I will never stop loving you.

I know love is sunshine.
I thought if I just loved you enough
you would stop hurting me.
I know now this would never be true.
you can't stop violence and abuse with love.
But I can still love you.
and my garden grows bigger
I can forgive you for being broken
and my garden grows stronger
I can forgive you for hurting me.
and my garden blooms
over and over.

And I can learn to love myself
enough so that I know when people
don't love me
enough so that I know when people
only want to pick my flowers

my garden grows
and I share myself
and my garden grows
and I love more
and my garden grows
and I find more compassion
and I have more flowers than I know what to do with

I can now share my flowers
and people bring me back other flowers

I know now
This is what love is
To love is to give.
To only say more is to die.

I chose and still choose life.
So this poem is dedicated to everyone who is broken
Whose garden has been trampled.
Choose love
Choose life
And nothing will be impossible. 

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