Poetry

Celebrate

It feels strange to be celebrating.

There’s a buzz in the house

As each family member arrives and congratulates me,

                         “You deserve this” they say

Yet I don’t feel very deserving.

I’m being rewarded for an action not an achievement.

For over-talking, over-sharing.

For explaining

Why

When you ask me to think of a happy memory from when I was

fourteen

eee   fifteen

eeee          sixteen

eeeee               seventeen

 eeeeee                        I cannot think of one.

They exist somewhere, I just didn’t know how to save them properly.

*

It feels strange to be celebrating

Something that was once so ugly.

The same family members hugged me before,

eeeeeeeeee  “Everything will be okay” they said

It wasn’t.

I was going to hurt them even more.

I didn’t mean to, of course,

The only person I ever wanted to hurt was myself.

I just didn’t realise how love worked.

Now,

When you ask me to think of a happy memory from when I was

seventeen

eeeeee eighteen

eeeeeeeeee nineteen

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee  twenty

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I might be able to answer.

And maybe that is the real reason why we are celebrating.

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6 thoughts on “Celebrate

    1. Thank you very much! That’s a fair point, I’m guess I’m just working on accepting the congratulations and understanding that maybe it is deserved 🙂

      Like

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