January 11, 2018
I remember our conversation about love
I remember thinking you were right,
7 year old men should protect their abused mother's.
I remember it all, from the blood, to the screams,
To the nightmares that kept me up for years to come.
I remember,
Blaming myself for not being strong enough.
For not being man enough
For being too much elementary school student
And not enough 6 foot warrior.
These are my memories.
Trust me,
I remember our conversation about love.
How my 20 year old self took blame,
that only God could take responsibility for.
I am not God
The only life a man has power to make grow is his own.
You are correct, growth means change.
And when I look in the mirror,
I see tomorrow.
My yesterdays will never change,
So I cannot grow by living there.
I remember our conversation about love,
And you were wrong.
I am no broken man,
That 7 year old was a boy.
And I will not shame him for not being more than what he was,
Just a boy.
I lay to rest my old agony
And leave sorrow as a widow to die alone.
I do not blame my father for not giving me something that cannot be given.
Love does not belong to anyone,
It is shared by those who first accept it within themselves.
So I will yell in front of every audience
They may never hear me...
But they will feel what I speak!
I will tell them I am hurting
And they will clap...because they know the pain is over.
I will tell them how damaged I was,
And they will call it powerful...because they see that I am still strong.
And one day...when I am gone
These poems will stand like monuments
engraved in their hearts and in their minds,
And the world will know... That I was here!
And despite my life and all its troubles
I was able... to love.
