“A poet is someone who can pour light into a cup, then raise it to nourish your beautiful, parched, holy mouth.” ~Hafiz

A novel idea: You can use your own poetry to heal internal wounds. And who knows, your poetry may help heal others’ wounds, too. I think the hardest part is quieting your inner critic, and writing the first line.

The Mirror’s Tale by annamarie pedersen

yeah I remember…

the night you took all those pills couldn’t focus on my face but still wanted to smash it. just too afraid to have one more ounce of bad luck.

I remember seeing your skeleton when you dropped thirty pounds because you blamed yourself hated yourself had to hurt yourself.

I watched you sobbing in the midnight hours tears falling hard on the bathroom sink washing your heart and soul down the drain.

yeah, I watched all that pain. and I stood there when you shouted obscenities at me spit at me shook your fist at me.

I remember I remember the day we shouted in unison NO MORE so shrill that the glass between us broke and we were one.

Note: I posted this on my first blog when I owned and operated Keystone Counseling. I wrote this poem thirteen years ago about a time in my 20’s (which is now about 20 years ago). Through crafting this poem, I discovered the strength I had way back then. I felt powerful in writing these words and

releasing the final, leftover strands of pain from way back then.

I challenge you to think about the words that move you, that heal you, that shine light into crazy places and make you feel like dancing or crying or laughing. Stories, songs, poems bring us into the realm of the divine if we let them seep into our marrow. Breaking open in this way can be scary. But the alternative is to stay tightly wound up in unbearable and unrealistic expectations.

Let yourself feel. Let yourself delight in creativity – your own and that of others.

Share:

Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
LinkedIn

More from the blog

“Worlds” Traveler

I never thought I was only located here.*I danced in other worlds.And lived a thousand lives.I kissed theMother and Fatherof nature and time. I’ve never

Read More »