#read backwards

“I am enough” Is something you’ll never hear me say “This will never be good” Is the reflection of all that I do My ideas and my effort Will never be enough for me Doubts of self-efficacy Are my morning routine Beliefs in the strength of my own spirit Are only an idea from church I never adopted  The worries of not being worthy Wrap around my soul and swaddle it The ways I see myself  Never seem to mirror the way they should, but The words I’ve kept of hers Seems to be the only stain that stuck Hidden away with so much, independence  Was so far down in a dusty garage chest  The bible I would cry out with That held my spirit inside  My body was a vessel Maybe I was reading it the wrong way.

flesti delaever ydaela sah nomed eno

I’ll never forget what my mother did.

She never cared about me and my well­being.

And it’d be a lie to say that

I appreciated everything she did.

She always pushed my limits and

Disregarded what I felt because to her it wasn’t true.

I felt like a complete disappointment, and she

Never said “I love you.”

I know how she truly felt about me, but I

Guess I didn’t know to how tell her how I really felt about it.

Practicing piano showed me my mother would never leave my side,

Even if that was the only thing I wanted.

I can’t say enough how much she meant to me.

The old piano just sits there, and I see her hovering over me.

I can feel tears coming back to my eyes.

She forced me to continue.

Even though all I wanted was to stop.

She never gave up on me,

I, the failure who would never become a prodigy.

Sometimes, I wish she did.

Those babies she left behind in China and never forgot.

That’s what drove her insane-

Maybe that’s what actually killed her, not the cerebral aneurysm.

One day, I finally had the guts to tell my mother to leave me alone!

I miss my mother dearly...

HA! That’s not true!

I hated my mother.

As we look back at our past, we can realize how wrong our initial thoughts could

have been. By looking backwards, we can learn what we honestly felt and thought. So, let’s

look backwards at the passage above:

Late one day while it was raining,

I saw that man was gently bathing

Where all the filth comes to meet,

In the pools that line the street.

So I said to him, “What is the purpose of this?”

He said to me, “Have you ever bathed in rain, Miss?”

I stopped a moment and quickly pondered,

What it was, I really wondered.

“Perhaps you’ll realize another day, 

That rain is filth, and causes decay.

To each his own.” was my reply

As I turned away to let him die.

His words then echoed though my mind,

“I pray for you that peace you may find.

Our time here is too short to judge and be hateful.

Heed these words, one day you’ll be grateful.”

In the pools that line the street,

Where our eyes were first to meet.

Late one day while it was raining,