Friday and Saturday were very long days for me, for very different reasons, so I ended up making picture posts for both days on Twitter and Facebook. If you'd like to see my bad handwriting in all its atrocity, your best bet is to look for the twitter posts. Anywho, here are the two poems under the jump.
11:16pm 4/26/13, it's felt like midnight for hours
I was going to write you something scathing
I was going to write you a lengthy
angsty
retort
to all the ways you look down on me
for not doing this thing the way you do it
and daring to follow rules that make your passion possible
Honestly
There was jumping
and capslock
It was a thing
But I'm too tired now
and I realize it's not really worth the fight
(the words will come back to me if it is)
because of who I am
I am a poet
who has honed her craft for over 18 years
with no end in sight
---
4/27/13, 12:45pm
Somehow I always get this wrong
I don't offer when I should
or I offer too late
full of belated realizations that I should see
if I'm needed
I want to deny the truth
I want to lay all blame at all the other feet
but it's me
I'm not as generous or nice as I seem
(or as I make-believe myself to be)
This only child self-centered thing
is more deeply rooted than I like to believe
(conquered it? ha! not me)
All of my tears can't wash away
can't cover up the self-pity
or how my compounded sins continue to place
the finger of guilt on my brow
and say "My fault. My fault
"Why can't I ever get this right?"
(This is the part
I think
where the poem is supposed to turn
to Him Who Forgives and Heals the Brokenhearted
but there's nothing wrong
with feeling the guilt of your sins
nothing wrong with being brokenhearted
when you've broken faith
If a bruised reed He will not break
then my guilt-ridden heart is safe with Him
But if He should break me
I'd rather be broken in the hands of the Potter who makes me
than in the hands capricious Man.)
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