A poem by Shelly Moore
©️ Limitless Stimulus 2023
I wouldn’t choose a warm beach
over hiking through the trees.
This skin isn’t much a fan of sun
blame these Scottish-Irish genes.
I have never (ever) loved myself
the way I probably deserve.
I’ve expected someone else to
when I’m unsure of my own worth.
I believe in otherworldly things,
Let me peek inside your mind.
Hold the door wide open
Let me see what I can find.
Holding back pushes me away
Vulnerability earns my trust.
Tell me everything you keep locked up
It’ll be kept forever between us.
At twenty I craved attention
Thirty I craved peace.
Now I’m turning forty
And what I want is to know me.
I know I love to write and sing
I love to entertain.
I love to make you happy
Provide relief from your pain.
We learn from an early age
To trade our identity
For the approval of the grownups
To maintain what they deem peace.
We then spend years searching
For something to fill that void.
Where our sense of self had been
Praying it wasn’t yet destroyed.
We search in other people.
Medicate with food and drink.
Numb the need with alcohol.
It’s easier when we can’t think.
When we push aside the rubbish
Pry open reddened eyes
Fill our lungs with fresh air
Allow our skin warm sunshine.
We clear and give the green light
Mind, body, heart, and soul
Mature enough to start to heal
So we can learn why we’re not whole.
I hope forty brings me clarity.
I hope forty brings me love.
I hope forty brings me endless laughs
and blessings from above.
I hope forty brings me all the shattered little pieces of my heart
All of which I’ve scattered across miles like broken art.
I’ll stitch them all together
One by one until whole again
And I’ll fill the gaps with gratitude
For all the places that they’ve been.