waiting to live

My Savior and tormentor,

My chain and my freedom.

You laid there quietly,

The light outlining your hair,

And to me that was enough.

But I was never enough,

I chased your perfection

Until I forgot myself,

I whipped myself for you

Until I collapsed in exhaustion.

I am too kind I’ve been told,

But without this kindness

I don’t know myself.

The times I’ve thrown it away

Were the times I was lost.

And when I’ve found it again

With steadier hands,

It was just as pure,

But sharper and more precious 

Than it ever was before.

My kindness is not free,

But wishing it could be 

Is also part of what makes me.

These days I am more thoughtful

And I protect my kindness.

For in the right moment,

Like the sun framing the image

Of a tortured love,

That kindness will lift a feather

Or a grain of suffering for someone.

And to have caused trouble to so many–

To have hurt, 

To have betrayed,

To have manipulated,

It is the least I can do to make amends.