Never Were We Alone

This will be the last heartbroken poem I post -for some time at least. This poem is vulnerable and an ode to the tragedy of love between two people afraid of being abandoned who are unable to lay down their fears and see each other for who they are. I’ve written close to thirty poems about the relationship this poem refers to, but none have really captured the tragedy quite like this journey. I believe that in all we do we should always seek resolution where wrong was done and offer forgiveness, even if it is not asked. This is not to ignore that we must protect ourselves if physically or emotionally in danger -protecting oneself does not require holding on to fury. The right decision for us was not to continue a friendship after this breakup -even though she wanted to, and she was upset at me for setting that boundary. The love we had for each other was not love that transitions to friendship -this was the flame of lovers, and it could not be maintained by the thread of a friendship. The lesson here: always do your best to gain perspective in any situation -at times that will be easy, and at times difficult. For it is in this perspective that we can see what is reality and what is the story we tell ourselves because it feels better than reality. In all things, you have a choice, and you must choose -even to do nothing is to choose. Take ownership of those choices. Be responsible for who you are and what you do. In doing that you will never be alone, because you will be surrounded by people who are like you. In doing this the fears of your past will melt away as you courageously face those demons and banish them back to hell.

You told everyone you were afraid,

That you never knew you could feel this way about me.

Some asked if I abused you.

The truth: I loved you without condition.

Something I’d given none before.

Committed to you through moments easy and hard.

Held you when anxiety struck;

Supported when life your energy did suck.

I loved you even when you avoided those feelings of care.

This is not to remove doubt of my faults:

I have them, plenty as the next.

It was you I chose to do the work with-

You, who made it all a little bit easier.

Even in those final moments, as anxiety grabbed hold of me:

And rational thought gave way to emotional pain,

I loved and gave to you.

Yet, you slandered my character for reasons known to you alone.

Did you also tell them you could not identify the feeling?

That you left for something you did not understand?

Were you truthful with them?

The reality is that the closer we grew:

The more you ran from our emotional intimacy.

I watched you become more distant and more closed:

The more our intimacy grew,

The colder your heart became-

You wrote me, that you were not afraid of me hurting you-

But you didn’t know what it was, and it scared you nevertheless,

And you still wanted to talk, be a part of each other’s life.

Only you will know the fear you felt:

But I can say, the fear was of love without condition

Because I felt the same, before you did:

I chose our love over my fear ,

To face the demon whose will was to rip us apart-

To dance with you through life navigating each up and down.

But any waltz requires two and you danced out the door.

Leaving me alone on the tear-stained hardwood floor.

Here’s the reality I could not see then:

Our memories were filled with trauma,

The closer we grew the more we pushed and pulled.

Out of fear that we’d be hurt in the ways of our past,

We danced away from each other,

Both scared that the other would leave a wounded heart.

You told me as much once-

But I did not listen,

All I saw were two scared souls, who-

If joined could conquer any obstacle.

That is why, that night before you left me,

I was trying to tell you, I saw how scared you were,

And I wanted to know how to be there, for you

To help bring you back to safety,

Because I understood what it was to be afraid of love.

For another month I made attempts to prove this point-

Not knowing the words I was speaking-

A slave to the pain inside.

This is why I forgive you,

And love you from a distance.

You did what you knew to make yourself safe,

Perhaps, all in the wrong way-

Certainly, in painful and hurtful deeds.

I was given your best,

That is all I could ask.

So, continue on your path:

Knowing there are those who wish you freedom from your fear,

Who will work to be there for you in the ways you need.

I was one: there will be another.

You are not alone-

We are not alone.

Never were we alone.

Celebrate

There is a great power in recognizing mistakes -and in this case America’s “mistakes” are evil, the awareness of which allows us to grow and change. We cannot bring awareness if we ignore, or blot out the dark chapters of our history. What better time than during a national holiday celebrating the birth of this country to reflect on the wrongs committed against others? This toddler nation, with only 250 years of history, has accomplished so much because of the technological boom, but there is still so much potential to be captured. Every American is not treated as equal, and many Americans are actively having their rights stripped from them each month. Imagine if we could bridge the gap between all walks of life and infuse our society with a system of values and laws that accurately reflected what each American needs. What greatness could we achieve that would propel us forward? That is the purpose of this poem, to draw attention to a dark and evil past while shedding light on all the potential our future has. It is aimed at the youth because they hold the fate of this nation in their hands.

Happy Fourth of July!

Celebrate young patriots,

A mighty nation birthed with determination.

The global superpower that toppled evil.

Celebrate young patriots,

A nation that massacred another-

Stole their land and gave them only a portion.

Celebrate young patriots,

The genocide of a continent’s occupants.

Celebrate young patriots,

Ships with tall sails and halls full-

Of humans hunted from their own homes.

Celebrate young patriots,

The slavers whip as it tears human flesh.

Celebrate young patriots,

A mighty nation bloodied by civil war-

Over the enslavement of people.

Celebrate young patriots,

A country segregated by melanin.

Celebrate young patriots,

Women whose rights are not theirs-

Whose bodies are legislated by men in cheap suits.

Celebrate young patriots,

A country whose DNA flows with evil ignored.

Celebrate! Celebrate! Celebrate!

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

You are the future youth will remember.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate,

Never to forget-

The terrible and the great-

That is your fate.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

The power of the people to change their destiny-

To make those in power tremble with mighty fear.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

This nation is yours to shape for the better.

Join hands with those from different paths.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

The strength of each adventure –

A new string of DNA.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

That you are no more the sum of your past-

Then the choice of your present.

Oh, young patriot, celebrate!

A future filled with equality for all.

Or watch this mighty nation fall.

Hurt Yourself

Heartbreak is probably one the greatest enigmas of humanity: we do everything in our power to avoid the pain, yet our actions of avoidance steer us directly into heartbreak. A few days ago I had a thought about a recent love lost: “What if the walls we built to protect ourselves from harm were the very walls that kept us from the love that would protect and nourish us?” Less complicated: love is what protects us, not walls, tests, and distance. To many of us love is a binary code we plug and play in various situations to create outcomes that match expectations we do not understand. Our love, though, is only as powerful as our connection to ourselves. We cannot produce love greater than our internal love for ourselves: if your love for yourself is toxic or anemic, your love for others will be toxic or anemic. Through connection with our inner self, we learn how to love more fully. This should be taught in our most formative years as children, but the generations that have raised today’s adults spent their childhood surviving great global turmoil: all they knew was survival, all they could teach their children was survival. And so, here, this next generation sits —with great abundance and great choice: do we continue as the generation in survival mode or evolve?

I believe the best way to love, especially if you are still healing and growing, is by finding people who want to support you. A telephone pole supports the telephone wires, it does not ask them to be anything more or anything less. That is the tragedy of this poem: two people coming together with different views of themselves and goals for the relationship and it ends in pain. The last stanza can be read from either perspective and represents the dual nature of reality.

You said to me:
We shouldn’t get together.
You said to me:
I hurt people. 

I said to you:
I am responsible for my choices. 
I said to you:
Let's heal together.  

You had no words,
We were no more. 
You hurt yourself,
More deeply than you could ever hurt me.

I Cried Today

I cried today,

Tears wet and hot,

And, it made me happy.

My Child: Epiphany

One thing that we often miss about the human experience is that each individual is responsible for their individual emotions and actions. Much has been written, and certainly, we have a justice system dependent on the truth that humans are responsible for their own actions. How do we view emotions, though? Perhaps, the greatest lie we have allowed in society is that the other person is responsible for how I feel. We design our personalities around irresponsibility for our emotions and moods. Viktor Frankl, a survivor of the Holocaust, wrote that the only thing a person can’t take from you is your ability to choose your own way. It is an indisputable fact that I was abused throughout my entire childhood. It is also an indisputable fact that only I am responsible for how I choose to respond to the abuse. This poem is what I believe to be the appropriate response: I am responsible for my emotions and moods, meaning I am responsible for saving myself.

There is no savior on the horizon because the savior was with you the entire time. You are the savior, don’t give away your power.

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” -Viktor E. Frankl

My child in pain you cried out for help.

Your need from their abuse, you did not induce.

Those who could have helped.

Were not capable of holding you.

My child you cried in the dark

My child you chose to get back up.

My child, you applied the salve.

My child you held yourself.

My child you chose to be.

Accept the power in those moments.

Accept destiny in your own voice.

My child you are grown now,

And you protect yourself.

Vulnerability is okay,

Love is acceptable,

Breathe the air and feel life.

Your wounds will hurt, but they do not define you.

My child

Drift no more

Sails repaired.

Hull patched.

You need no savior,

For on that floor, you saved yourself.

My Child: The Wound

The last year has been filled with a lot of change for me and I have most definitely struggled to manage the pain from these changes in this season of my life. Last night I was going through workbooks and psychology on healing when I realized that the majority of my life has been spent learning why other people act the way they do and trying to adjust to navigating them. The technical term is people pleasing, which is a trait I am well aware I have: people pleasing protected me from the multiple waves of abuse I suffered as a child. Last night, for perhaps the first time, I went on to do a little research on why I react to life the way I do. I did not get far before the thoughts flowed and a filled out three pages of my reactions to life, why I react the way I do, and what significant event from my childhood is the trigger for those reactions. In therapy, I refer to these moments as epiphanies, because they are so deeply profound to me and are pivot points in my personality. I finish off my marathon self-therapy session and go to bed having a vivid dream about reconciliation and acceptance. This morning I woke up and after a few hours felt two poems growing inside me. I haven’t edited these poems -in any significant way, they are raw, and emotional, and are directed at me as a child. The goal of this website is to provide a platform for not only myself to express who I am, but for others who are suffering to find the courage to seek acceptance within themselves. There is an act of underdefined courage in facing abuse and choosing to define the abuse rather than the abuse defining you. Hopefully, through my words, anyone reading this can also find the courage that they always had and harness it for themselves.

In pain my child cried out,

Someone help, me?

Someone soothe, me?

Someone hold, me?

Alone in the night.

In the dark my child cried

No one held him!

No one soothed him!

No one helped him!

Tears staining the hardwood floor.

Wounded as a tiger gashed in the side:

My child grew.

Fearful of all around him

Wary of those who would be close:

Lest they disappear when needed

Hating himself.

My child, now a man

Drifting listlessly amongst the sea.

Sails tattered and battered.

Hull pierced and taking on water.

No savior on the horizon.

I See You

It’s been a while since I’ve posted (lots of life changes). This is the first version of this poem about love had, love lost, and love to be had.

Everyone wants to be seen, always take that extra moment to see them for who they are and not who you want them to be or who they were.

I see you,
Beautiful in your dress,
Like so few,
Twirling on the front porch,
As you do,
Smiling radiantly.
I see you,
Eyes full of hope.

I see you,
Hiding within yourself,
You withdrew,
Unsure of threats all around, 
The anger inside you a' brew,
Smile faded.
I see you,
Eyes filled with pain.

I see you,
Fighting against it all,
Giving to life it's just do,
Trying not to succumb,
Wanting someone to pursue.
Smiling.
I see you,
Eyes filled with determination

I see you:
Worthy of love,
Affection abounding
Dreams turned to reality,
Protected from all that would harm.
Surrounded by care.
I see you,

A shining star safe in the night sky.

Slaves to a Wisp

I wrote this poem in 2009 and edited it in 2023. This particular poem I am not going to give much explanation for. Instead it is intended for the reader to derive their own meaning and purpose from this words.

The air was cold.

A dismal grey

 Lit the way:

Birds sang mellow song.

And the wind stood still,

In meadows dying

No life was near.

But as the ‘morrow shone bright

And caressed by celestial rays,

The air warmed to the touch,

Birds sang their glorious songs,

And green meadows danced in the wind,

As rays of gold lit the day:

Life was near.

With a clap like a cannon!

And a strike as a whip!

The wind roared in wild fury.

And meadows danced in horror,

As darkness surveyed the land wide.

Beauty was swept in a violent fit.

In a horrible mask, contained;

Imprisoned by the fury of the night,

Chained to trees wild with rage.

Lost until the tempest was dissuade,

Life coward at its feet

Left to repeat this dismal being,

Tricked by illusions of time,

Deceived by hope never received,

Wander the dreams of time past.

Prisoners to their master.

Slaves to a wisp.

 -EJB