Here are the hands that held me,
That kept tight hold of my heart,
Protecting the part
In constant pain,
Reliving the past
Like there was something to gain
From molesting
Memories,
Like
Medusa's
Snakes
Hissing unhelpful hints.
"You're unlovable,"
"You'll fuck it up again,"
"You'll never lose weight,"
"You're just not good enough."
They hiss.
Yes,
Here they are,
The hands that held me
Back.
That would not let me love
With strength.
In every case
I would
Lack
The courage
To say
"This is the limit of my love,"
I gave until
There was nothing left
For me.
So I would cling
To anything
Or anyone
Until they
Said "Go!"
Then I got mean,
For a time,
Kicking
Long-standing relationships
In the teeth,
Believing in
No thing,
Not even myself.
And so I took these hands,
These hands that held my heart,
And I said,
"Thank you.
Thank you, hands, that held me,
But now, piss off!"
It's time to heal
And pump the blood
And get that aching heart
Working again.
And so I healed,
And pumped,
And grew,
And no more
Hissing snakes
Tormented me.
In their place
Were butterflies
Of change,
Fluttering
Freely
In the air
Around me,
With no attachment
To me,
Reminding me
That love
Is best given
When it is a by-product
Of
Joy,
Gratitude,
Humility,
Fearless passion,
Self worth,
And
An insatiable desire
To giggle
And marvel
At the history
And mystery
Of such pompous
Musings.
(Silver Lake, February 2010)
