of the playful game of hide and seek until dusk.
of the whispers muttered in the dark, withheld from authority
of the decisions crippled by fear.
of the security of constant best friends.
of the reading into moments, when that crush was had on you.
of the division in the family; the only one to carry this perspective.
of the rich smells from nostalgic summers past.
of the uplifting utterance made by the steadfast.
of the "quiet" mockery about the goody-good, in classroom corridors.
of the books and words i have held on to.
i am made up of many parts, weaved together. yet, the struggle lies within remembering. remembering that i am the sum of the parts beautifully weaved together. a myriad of cultivated moments. quirks from this or that.
while pondering the reality of what consumes my mind most, the unspoken came to my attention. without acknowledgment, i have devoured the lie that i am insufficient. the lie whispering, if i worked dilligently enough, i could become (like) the people who i see are greatly valued. as i swallow my pride to reveal this in the light, truth is i put so much pressure on the way i look or how i am. i have created this idea in my mind that who i am is not enough. the not-so-pretty reality and result is in that little friend we love to hate: mr comparison. they say that comparison is the thief of joy. and boy-oh-boy, i could vouch for that.
this flawed filter i choose to view myself in, i fear is detrimental to how i love others. and i desire diddly-squat to stop me from loving with everything in me, therefore i must love myself. this is my prayer and my cry to you Lord. save me from self deception & lend me your eyes.
i am made up of confused paradoxes. and that, that i will cherish.
sincerely,
B
