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Because You Are

A Sunday Story that turned into a poem.

I'm glad to know it's not just my story.

But also sorry to know that too.


I walk around and look at walls

try to decide if they are good enough

if I am.

There are dents lines and cracks

and it feels that they mark my body

not just this house.

Maybe no one else will notice

won’t wonder why the paint isn’t better

why I’m not smaller.

Nothing is what it’s supposed to be.

What is it supposed to be?

Shame bleeds into self worth.

Soaks it.

Dreams are hard to sleep with

packed up and sharp under the pillow

whispering lies.

But lies are true if you believe them

if you can’t untangle the doubt and fear

held too tight.

There is beauty here and we know it

but can’t see through the haze of regret

that blurs.

Let go of that time that wasn’t yours.

But can you let go?

Guilt keeps you anchored.

Like drowning.

Everything I have seems so small

worth hardly anything next to the bigness

next to all that is more.

Maybe we shouldn’t even do this

make things with only a little bit of light

compared to all the shine.

Sorrow says that even my grave will be

too shallow compared to the one next door

doubt even in death.

It’s so hard to live among this.

How do you live among this?

Fear holds tightly.

Chokes you.

But thoughts are not for believing they say

and what great relief it would bring to let this be so

to be pure.

To be just as good and just as pretty

full and enough and with everything you need

the worry gone.

Breathe in and out and let it come

this knowing that you are and you have

because this is it.

There is only one life from which to shine your light.

What light will you shine?

Be brave and whole.

Because you are.

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