Homage to Self

Love,
I am sorry that you have to apologise for the marks
— scarring slashes and throbbing deep wounds —
that others inflicted upon you
(and you keep on screeching every time you try to heal,
alcohol was never a friend)

Love,

I am sorry that there is so much love pouring out
— exhausting your poor overworked heart —

but not much coming in

Love,
I am sorry that you had to be called selfish
(for showing your infinite patience and strength to survive)
by the same mouth that prays for your health

Love,
I am sorry that your brows always furrow at the mention of
home; an indefinite space of the familiars and an infinite room to grow,
but you will never know

Love,
I am sorry that you always have to — without fail —
provide yourself high level of affection
in order to stay sane
(is it working?)

Love,
I am sorry that suffering has different taste on everyone,
and your suffering (oh yours my darling, my sweet)
spat out by the ones who feed you, the ones who nourish you
because your suffering is not enough for them to be swallowed down,
consumed fully by the general mass
— they told you your pain is insufficient

Love,
I am sorry that no one has ever — purposefully —
chosen you and it has made you
inadequate and incomplete

Love,
I am sorry that you always have to be the knight
(unfortunately shining armours not included)
for yourself, the damsel in distress;
and this damsel no longer has faith in any other knights

Love,
I am sorry that you have to always carry around your tiny weapon,
but I apologise even more for you having such little trust
in humans — so your favourite self defence is
walls upon walls of hidden chambers and soft-spoken truths

Love,
I am sorry that your cravings are yet to be satisfied,
this primal hunger shared by your ancestors
(etched deep within your cells, trapped between
what is known and what is loss)
and all you feel is yearn

Love,
I am sorry that you are unable to rest,
barred from swallowed, succumbed, and nestled in placid waters
(because all you have now is raging sea and thunderous weather)

Love,
I am sorry that you have eternity
— and so much more —
of perception with no one to share

[Gabriella Ferreira]