Just a Reminder to Anybody Who’s Suffering

It’s a cruel world, but do your best to find/have positive people in your life while in it to shine a light on what’s good. There’s good in most things if you are willing to see it. You just have to make an effort to open your eyes and look.



Forgiveness is a salve, they say.  Forgiveness helps to heal the pain and allows you to grow and mature and move forward.  But what if you feel like you are the one that needs the apology?  What if you feel like, in order to move forward, you need not be the one to make the first move?

You can’t control another person’s movement.  You can’t force someone to feel remorse, to come to you, to apologize, to try and mend.  It’s not your place.  So then how do you forgive?

How do you move past when every memory forces anger and pain?

How do you stop yourself from being stuck.  Because the only one hurting is you.  In the end, it is your well-being that is compromised.  In the end it is you who suffers.

But yet you have to forgive.  You have to do whatever you need to do to forgive and move past.  Because holding on only hurts you and no one else.  Remembering only makes you the victim.  And being the victim stifles your movement forward.

Somehow you must get to a place where you can truly forgive.  Mainly it’s forgiving your own self.  And healing from the emotions that haunt.

The Butterfly

The first time I trusted someone
It was forced out of me
Questions and demands
Insistent and probing
I was a child, a butterfly
You pinned me to a board
Of shame and despair
Delicate wings torn and bleeding
Stained, filthy gray.
No longer a she, not even an it,
a constellation of bruises
growing all the time,
A collection of breakages which
I could not find the courage
to repair.

From then onwards
I was at war to escape.
The putrid sores had their
Time, raw and itching, a
Constant reminder, until
They began to recede,
Healing around the slender
Steel weapons
That had caused them
And I was surprised to wake
One day and find an unlikely
A drop of rainbow brightness
On petal-like gray
And with it the desire to flutter
And laugh, and be vivacious,
And the potential to spread,
A patch of fluorescent damp
On the wall between the rest
Of the world and I.

And I was no longer a child
But still a butterfly
Captured still, spread-eagled
by a mistake,
A combination of my own
Weakness and your unwavering
But silence and strength go
So well hand in hand
And just as the impenetrable
Darkness of the tunnel
Had thrown me at first
Nothing gave me more
Pleasure than
The light
At the end of it.

The second time I trusted someone
I was safe and saved.
He admired my colors;
How could he know
That they had once been
So different?
That I had fought so hard
To abolish the gray?
He is your reciprocal
But my whole,
He holds my name in his
mouth like he is trying to
give it somewhere to
I oblige, indulging in
The way his neck curves and
The way his eyes smile and
The simple fact that he loves
Me, the broken butterfly.

The second time I trusted someone
He unpinned me.
I flew.


“I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life,
I know you’ll be a sun in somebody else’s sky, but why
Why, why can’t it be, can’t it be mine”
– Pearl Jam “Black”

I no longer count the days that were washed away. But when I look back it’s a dark tunnel with nothing to portray. And when the sun goes down everyday, I spin off into a world were reality lifts. In a place where your hands trace my olive skin, my veins lighting up like a road map leading the way. My skin dances as you follow the curves and crevices. The warmth of your body blankets mine as what is mine becomes yours. Then your lips meet my ear as you whisper softly what I used to hear…

The melody of your voice carries away as the golden rays seep through the cracks of my room. And now my bitter hands are greeted by cold sheets on the other side of the bed. It takes a second to wake from the love I can’t hold onto. And I realize it’s just another morning without you here. Soon enough, another night…

It’s the quiet that hurts. It’s the ache that I feel when our favorite song comes on the radio. It’s me looking for you when I go out, every corner, every turn. It’s me going grocery shopping alone. It’s me at night waiting for a call that never comes. It’s when I pass by a restaurant that we used to eat at. It’s when I order my coffee that I got you hooked on. It’s the smell of bacon, it’s the sunset we used to watch, and the pictures I keep under my bed. It’s all the little ways I remember you. They haunt me everyday.

It’s our love turning black, fading away.