I Don’t Know…

A poem of self

Photo by Jackson David on Unsplash

I don’t know…
How I got here
to this altogether lovely and aching place.
I don’t know how I let fear guide me,
while I let society lock me away.
I don’t know,
how I broke free
of the chains of my crippling self-doubt,
or if I’m truly me.
I don’t know where I’m headed
or who I’ll be.
Fuck,
I don’t know.

I don’t know
How I believed sacrifice for the sake of others
was what I needed.
I don’t know why
I hid my tears
or why I listened to the lies
when they said:
you’re not enough
you need to change
Or when they said:
you’re too much
you need to leave
I don’t know why,
but I let those tales lock her away

I don’t know-how
but slowly,
I’m finding her again.
Those wonderful pieces of her soul,
filling me up like dreams in my catcher.

I don’t know-how
but that flame
that once burned,
orange as the sun behind the mountains as she rose,
red as the cheeks from my day in the sun,
is igniting again.
Some days slow and feeble,
like a turtle in the mud.
and others bright and furious,
like my hand on this page.

I don’t know-how
but I’m finding her again.
Every day
with every stroke

I don’t know-how
I don’t know where,
but I can taste her.
Sweet like honey,
she’s not hiding anymore.
I don’t know-how
but here she is.