Sullen GirlA Poem by Colettetired of people offering unsolicited cliched advice that they seem programmed like a robot to dispense
Please don’t tell me to be careful Don’t tell me, “He has to help himself” “They have to hit rock bottom” “I just don’t want you to get hurt”
Please don’t feed me all those clichés, like “You have to love yourself before someone else can love you” “You don’t need anyone” “Have you tried Match.com?”
Please don’t lecture me on how to live When you haven’t been privy to my enlightened path
I am pensive. I am numb. I am exuberant. I am anything but dumb.
Who there has seen a knife pierce an abdomen, and blood running like Kool-Aid from a punctured vessel? There is no sippy cup to keep these images tidy in my mind.
Who there has seen a man hooked up to life support, waiting for the organs to be donated because the brain is already dead? Vietnam permeated his mind before the bullet did.
Have you survived a war, any kind of war?
Who there has had veins exploding from the inside out Needles poking, tubes protruding, and organs failing? I am a Frankenstein experiment.
It doesn’t seem plausible that I’m alive.
I am alive. I am melancholy. I am quixotic. Maybe I am agnostic.
Maybe not.
I have watched and listened to people and animals die since I was 6 years old. I have come excruciatingly close to death twice, and have had countless life threatening experiences. I continue to dream. I aspire to do great things. I love innocently and unconditionally. I cry when birds sing.
Ask yourself if you are capable of loving as I love? Ask yourself, “What is wrong with wanting to help another?” “What is wrong with wanting to be held?”
What an impossibly dismal existence this would be if no one worked cooperatively with others.
AA would not exist if someone didn’t feel as though they wanted to help someone recover from their dependency. Hospitals would not exist if someone didn’t feel like they wanted to help cure someone with an illness. The National Organization for Women would not exist if someone didn’t want to help enforce rights for women
Numerous organizations exist because people want to provide resources and comfort to those in need.
Ask yourself…. Why do you try to find fault when someone is trying to do something good? Why do you concentrate on the negative aspects of a scenario rather than the positive? Is it easier for you to criticize than to compliment? Can you only give of your time and love when the favor is returned to you? Do you cease to care if this love is not reciprocated?
I don’t.
I care.
Deeply.
Please don’t speak to me of hurt.
I know hurt intimately… It’s the sound of my mother’s last breath. It’s the death of another woman I’ve befriended. It’s my beloved pet convulsing in my arms. It’s people and animals I don’t know who are contending with the insufferable.
Please don’t tell me to be careful.
I am humble. I don’t shy away from uncomfortable situations, because that is when someone usually needs support the most. I don’t buy into that cliché about giving and receiving love, because some people don’t love themselves enough to take care of themselves, and they are still deserving of love from others.
How does anyone ever know his or her true worth if someone doesn’t take the time to focus on what is positive? Whether it’s me expressing to a man who has an alcohol addiction, “I believe you are a good person who has been challenged by something that seems beyond your control, and I am here to help you if you need me.” Or, a man expressing to me, “I believe in you and what you’re doing.”
THINK ABOUT IT.
I am sullen. I am awakened. I am conflict. I am resolution.
I am Love. © 2011 ColetteAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
874 Views
3 Reviews Added on July 29, 2010 Last Updated on December 6, 2011 Tags: grief, illness, alcoholism, love, support, survival, melancholy, hope AuthorColettePhoenix, AZAbout"The poet...is not nearly so concerned with describing facts as with creating images and establishing mental connections." from the book "Uncertainty" by David Lindley I'm in love with metaphors.. more..Writing
|