Poem: Show Me How to Love Me

Show me
how to sit inside my own skin
without flinching.

How to stay
when the memories come back
with teeth.

Teach me
what to do
with these hands
that have held too tightly,
pushed too hard,
let go too soon.

Where do I put
the things I’ve done
that don’t fit
inside forgiveness?

Where do I lay down
the names I’ve been called
until they stop answering
when I speak?

Show me
how to look at myself
without becoming
my own accuser.

Or worse—
my own judge
who never adjourns.

I have learned
how to survive myself.
That is not the same
as living.

So if there is a way
to hold all of this—
the harm,
the hunger,
the half-formed good in me—

without turning away,

show me.

Not all at once.
Not clean.
Not finished.

Just enough
to stay.

Just enough
to not leave
when I am hardest
to love.

Just enough
to begin.