you said “it was a mistake”
like bitter icing on an old cake
permanent marker stains
and now it’s too late
to erase all the pain
i say “it is a memory”
an integral part of me
a memory my heart holds
twists and folds
until thoughts grow old
yes, i reached for your hand out of habit
memories have a funny way of doing that
then i looked to the ground
surprised to have found
a crucifix buried in it
i say mistakes are like bookshelves
that bring comfort when tears dry themselves
they carry the weight of a thousand decisions
and bear the weight when you almost cave in
besides what are mistakes
but reasons to live
reasons to love
and reasons to forgive
for all the shit i’ve gone through
i know i did the best i could do
how can that be a mistake?
life is about learning for experience’s sake
by gathering all those bits of knowledge
and “i’ll never do that again”
we learn who to trust, who to love and
who is a good friend
i’ve learned that hearts don’t break
they merely open and close
eyes fill up full of tears
an unexpected kiss on the nose
of all the muscles in the body
the heart remembers the most
my heart has learned to tense up
when other hearts get too close
yes muscles remember—each laugh, every cry
muscles remember and so do i
i’ve learned that hearts don’t sink
they simply float
on top of the ripples we create
in our mistake-ridden boats
the ripples tell me:
embrace pain
embrace change
embrace all that has held you down
embrace those waves when you almost drown
embrace all those mistakes
embrace and hold them close
for hearts remember everything
even if you don’t
i’ve learned that hearts don’t scar
they just take time to heal
all they need is closeness:
a safe friend they can feel
yes it’s true, painful stains cannot be removed
shout only makes them harder to work through
for when they become invisible to the naked eye
it is so much harder to realize
that these stains—these mistakes that left a mark
are essential to living and learning that
we all are a part of each other’s hearts
how appropriate it is then that these stains now hold my heart
surround me in hope when i drift apart
now I claim my many stains
add them up you’ll get my name
for this stain on my skin
is a symbol of my strength within
a symbol of everything i’ve learned and know
for like flowers i too continue to bloom and grow
5 comments:
Thanks for that, Jona! I love this one...maybe it's because I'm so full of holes and covered with stains.
I've come to believe there are no mistakes, only decisions and actions upon which we may reflect and grow. I know; semantics, right? No. A better word for the event we call a "mistake" is Opportunity.
Having first encountered this poem through Jona's recitation, I hear her voice each time I read it. That has been an excellent reminder for me of how rhythms that may sometimes look awkward on a page can become effective and even beautiful in an oral reading. There are surprising images and memorable lines here.
Jona, your imagery and word sounds are wonderful. Beautiful poem!
Anomymous is Jean, Jona. :)
Awww! Thanks everyone. I didn't realize all of you commented on my poem til today. <3
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