"We carry our failures until we realize the lessons they were meant to teach.”
A thousand versions of me exist,
Within minds I cannot see,
I could never hope to predict,
What they truly think of me.
O my former love for liquor,
Whiskey, vodka, wine,
Liquid confidence deceiving no one,
Whenever I claimed to feel fine.
Perhaps my moments of weakness,
Where I was not at my best,
Measured, judged, outcast by others,
Deemed forever worthy to detest.
If only I let feelings flow free,
If only I acted with intent,
If only I spoke truer words,
I wouldn’t regret time poorly spent.
But suddenly smiling faces,
Greet me wherever I arrive,
Does that mean I’ve slain all demons,
That kept me a prisoner inside?
I can only forgive myself,
I cannot control what’s done,
All I can do is remember,
What was lost before I won.
I remember the first time my father told me he had tried crack cocaine. Something in my belief in human goodness cracked open, and my survival instincts took over. I looked down on him because our blood flowed too closely together. At 22, becoming the best version of myself suddenly felt impossible, like I was already carrying inherited ruin.
But two years ago, I got the chance to tell him something different.
The same way I’ve seen both the best and worst in myself, I know my parents are a direct link to that too. And if I can recognize beauty, strength, creativity, endurance, and growth within myself, then they cannot be wholly broken in my eyes either.
Which means there is always greatness in us all even beneath the addiction, the mistakes, and the grief.
This is such a lovely compassionate poem, an acceptance of self . We can only make decisions based on our understanding, our feelings, our awareness and the situational setting at that particular time. It’s rare that people go out to f€&k things up for themselves , or make decisions that will come back to bite you or haunt you. I hope that these just aren’t words and that you have an inner peace that was missing before.