I used to think love
was a fist to the face
a belt to my back
a venomous tongue
that cut deep and left scars
But now I know
that love is soft
gentle hands
a warm embrace
a voice that soothes
and a heart that understands
Its not easy to heal
from the wounds of the past
the memories that haunt
the fear that lingers
the doubt that creeps in
But I am stronger now
and i am learning
to trust
to love
to believe in myself
and find my own way
I will not be defined
by the pain of my past
by the words that were spoken
by the fists that were raised
I am a survivor
and I will rise above
with a heart full of love
and a spirit that is free
-
Author:
OatMilkLatte (
Offline) - Published: March 9th, 2023 00:28
- Comment from author about the poem: You are not your past. You are as beautiful as you make the present. The past is one hard pill to swallow, allow yourself to heal. But never let it bruise your soul.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments1
I never understood mistaken domestic violence for love, seeing it second hand with my mother and her lovers I never understood why. Good poem nonetheless
Everyone has a very unique way of how the perceive things. I was more so speaking how that is the only form of "love" I knew growing up, now today realizing it wasn't really love. I didn't necessarily mean I understood domestic violence to be love, I too was always very confused. Just that I learned as I got older the true definition of love and what I was seeing, was not love in any way shape or form. I hope I make sense! Thank you for your feedback 🙂
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