Poem: What I Know


What I Know

This is what I know.
That I can break.
That I am not as strong as I would like to believe
and confronted with enough anger, enough abandonment,
enough lies and theivery of the things I love,
and I will collapse like brick in a fire.

This is what I know.
That I can rise.
That the reclamation always takes longer than the destruction,
but in the end, the broken parts, once repaired
are stronger than the seams untested by fire.

This is what I know.
The broken parts hurt.
The pain changes with time, but never evaporates.
The broken parts show their scars.
It is inevitable and honest to wear those scars,
not proudly, but without shame,
content to be
what I am.

This is what I know.
Lessons of a broken life.
There are things in life far beyond me.
God. Love. Children. The minds of cats.
That a glaring lack of perfection
is better for love than all the facades in the universe.
That worthiness is mine to decide, and no one else’s.
That God whispers.
That haters are already half dead.
That love heals. Always.
That none of this is hard,
but all is choice.

This is what I know.

One comment

  1. Come now, much is hard… Oddly enough, on the way home from your wedding somehow our childhood came up. Lynn thought there was no abuse at all, while I think I see things more like you – the stress was substantial. Hope things are going well.


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