I was mocked
Then told off
On two separate occasions
For doing what excites me
For mere entertainment
Taken, always taken
Out of sorts and out of mind
Like a three ring circus,
This tamer’s been bit
For the very, very
Very last time.
Home » Posts tagged 'hurt'
I was mocked
Then told off
On two separate occasions
For doing what excites me
For mere entertainment
Taken, always taken
Out of sorts and out of mind
Like a three ring circus,
This tamer’s been bit
For the very, very
Very last time.
For some reason, people
just keep on sticking around—
no matter how I push them away.
And God knows I’ve tried, yet
still as the evening air
they remain, willing and shifty
to see me from my darkness
onward, till dawn.
The things I can not change
remind me why I’m here.
They are but the souls
reminder—to stay the course.
The slammed door said I’m hurting.
The silence said I’m scared.
The walls between us listened
when no one seemed to care.
The portraits on the wall,
oh how they seemed stare,
where deep within night
the stars poured ever clear.
The door knob turned eventually
as silence did it’s head,
the sea between us parted and
the portraits went to bed.
While all the world was sleeping
with all their monsters fed,
the boy and girl slept soundly
no sooner had they met.
Have you ever noticed that the thing you are most excited to share with another person, be it a new book, movie, podcast, idea, or what you think happens to be something to be considered “the greatest,” that their excitement never quite matches your own?
Of course you have. We’re all human.
And have you ever noticed that upon showcasing this thought or idea to another that when you do, their reaction never quite lives up to your expectation, which leaves you feeling either hurt or discouraged?
I will not take it upon myself to assume that you have though I will tell you this: I have.
And it’s a very tough thing to understand.
In the moment of realization that your appreciation for something you deem extraordinary hasn’t been deeply felt in the same way by another can often cause conflict, misunderstanding, and judgement—that is reactionary rather than honest.
Instead of expressing our pain for what seems a lack of appreciation in the moment, we often turn to criticism, which is in itself a form of false pride.
Rather than saying, “I’m confused as to why you don’t feel the way I do about what I’m showing you,” one says, “well, of course you don’t get it,” or more often than not, we say nothing, letting our emotions fester to distress and shame.
In the Alchemist, Paulo Coelho writes: “It’s not what enters men’s mouths that’s evil, it’s what comes out of their mouths that is.”
Well if that’s not the boldest yet truest statement to have ever been penned than I implore you to enlighten me as I’ve found myself in this predicament more times than I am willing to admit.
My point is, we can’t expect another’s reaction to mirror our own.
We shouldn’t expect them to for the simple fact that they are their own person, with their own background, beliefs, and experiences that before judgement deserve appreciation and due time to process and articulate what is being presented.
What took the time to find, understand, and appreciate should also be granted—the time—to another.
It’s like telling someone rather than suggesting someone read a book.
Your willingness to share does not determine one’s willingness to receive.
It’s like giving someone the answer without allowing them to solve the equation.
The ability to discover is a gift in itself and it’s that same gift of discovery that makes our individual perception unique.
So the next time you offer someone a gift, regardless of their reaction, remember who you’re sharing it with and why you chose them to share it with you all over again.
I think then you will find an even deeper appreciation for yourself and another.
I never had the answer
for the question in my hand
I was told you just can’t stay here
so go collect your things
It must have felt like death there
long before he chose
The quietness of failure
in a house no longer home
I never asked for this hurt to be mine
I never felt more shameful by and by
I pushed it all away like it would disappear
I never knew a stranger who
I loved more dearly when he died.
I wanted to help you
but hurt you instead.
The least I can say is
I’m sorry my friend.
The most I can do is
tell you I’m here,
no matter the distance
though waters aren’t clear,
it’s times like these—
a balloon in the air—
to let yourself go completely
and live not in fear.
You’re worth more than you know
I know this my friend
so follow your heart, and
try to understand.
I wanted to help you
but hurt you instead.
The least I can say is
I’m sorry my friend.
Sometimes
—mostly—
alone
is better.
Nobody
gets hurt
—sometimes—
mostly.