I Love You, Little Me – The most vulnerable of my poems to date. Read with caution. But also enjoy the video at the end.
I have to hug me.
I can’t hate me.
I love you, Little Me.
You’ll have children who will bring you a sense of love and joy,
and in you they’ll keep a sense of home.
Little Jessica, you must move on.
There’s no point in holding on to
conversations that pissed me off
or sent me running back to shame.
I don’t live in excuses anymore.
There’s no reason to ignore
That for many things I am to blame.
And while I’m sure many mean well
there are no more ways to tell
me that my views my words my statements,
my reaching towards my concepts of greatness
trying to figure out and exceed what
was expected of me. Let me stop right there.
You see –
Some of this isn’t mental health,
some of this is hypocrisy.
Dear Little Me,
No one will know until you write about it,
But you’ll waste years of your time
Trying to meet standards that will
Make you feel included,
You’ll still feel secluded.
And it’s needed for you won’t really
Learn your purpose until
After your last suicide attempt.
Until your mid-thirties.
Don’t waste your time bringing up
Things that no one else remembers.
That fetus is gone –
And it was still no excuse to steal a car
Still no excuse to become lost
And flee from the grasp
Of your late great-grandmother,
Commit senseless crimes
And intoxicate your body.
That one pervert is dead.
The other pervert is dead to you.
Sleeping Beauty is dead.
You-know-who is dead.
Most of the people who hurt you as a child are dead
So maybe now I can bury the past.
Listen, Little Me:
I know that you hated having to babysit
Weeks after that flutter was ripped out of you,
But that is no reason to live years hating yourself.
You’ll have children during tough times
Which will open your eyes.
You will need to stay strong in your faith in God.
You will make it.
But you’ll likely still feel alone.
There’s no amount of money that can buy love
And no accomplishments that can make you feel accepted,
And baby girl, there is no physical act that can bring you feelings of self worth.
But guess what? You’re going to make it.
Little Jessica, you have to move on.
I forgive myself.
You were 14.
Little do you know, that wound will resurface when you reunite with that first consensual male encounter, but neither of you will be the same.
My children bring me a sense of love and joy,
and through me, they will always feel home.
Thank you for reading. I free wrote this poem without thinking too much. I just wrote what was on my heart. I didn’t expect it to get quite that deep. But I will leave it as it is. Also, I made this video early this morning, it’s a mashup of an old and new poem.
Jusjess Poetry – Writing My Way Into My Destiny
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