Memo to Self


sometimes when you’re angry
it’s no more or less than pain
with a false face
agony too hard to take
so you fake rage
rage which grows, takes hold, holds sway

years may burn away
and every day the fury becomes more real
eating at your soul
while you hide the grief so deep inside
that you can’t feel it
except once in a while
at dead of night when you can’t sleep
or when a puppy dies

with each new cut the pain piles up
and you continue to try to erase it
by railing against an outside enemy
when the real enemy is you

be kind to your inner spirit
take courage from it
sit awhile with your sadness
respect its reality
allow it space to breathe
breathe with it
do not try to stretch or deny its longevity
let the tears flow freely
be patient
feel the shape of the pain
do not hide from it
it will lift in its own time

it may come and go on a whim
or take wing and fly away

whatever the future may bring
better the honesty of sorrow
than the destruction of rage


Dedicated, with grateful thanks, to Raili who unknowingly inspired this poem with one of her posts. I hope you’ll go over to her blog and read the post, though the connection may not be obvious.

©Jane Paterson Basil


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