There are quite a few things that inspired me to compose this poem, but there are a few things about this poem that inspire me in turn. In the last several months, I have gone through a big transition in terms of my mentality, physical wellness, etc. for the better. After all of the things that have led me up to this point, I felt compelled to tell a story of one who saw herself as a weak link when in reality, everything is based on perspective and how you tackle each individual situation you are faced with. I think that is the resilience and general passion for life that I’ve been able to build for myself.
They pass her some thread.
The canvas is shredded.
Weak like the needle,
she is quivering under the strain
This canvas isn’t perfect.
It desires talent.
It deserves passion.
Yet it is blank,
and it wants to hold meaning, color.
The needle has no desire to fix it all;
the loose threads show the weakness.
The tattered ends shoulder strength.
Her resilience shines.
No longer fearing rejection,
she has become something new.
Looking into the mirror,
the reflection fogged up with each breath.
She still sees the flaws.
All of them.
It isn’t perfect.
But she has learned to see past
Featured Image via Luka Radikovic.