Light Filters In: Poems

by Caroline Kaufman

it’s survival of the fittest, not everyone will thrive. we’re pushed so far that we go against the instinct to survive.

I burn and smoke to keep others warm, forgetting that I need to breathe.

I carry a first-aid kit wherever I go, forgetting that I need to heal.

I give out love to all who will take it, forgetting that I ne...

I am dying in order to keep everyone around me alive.

for once, I wish I could be the poem instead of the poet I’ve been.

for once, I wish I could be the receiver, instead of handing out pieces of heart. as a writer, a lover—I seem to be destined to give as I’m falling apart.

I shouldn’t rely on love from other people. but if someone else can love me, that means it’s possible for me to do it as well. conclusion: I am lovable.

the only way to prevent a car crash is to never drive in the first place. and I guess that’s why I won’t let myself fall in love again.

life is learning to read the messy handwriting of the earth when school only showed you clear-cut letters.

I can hold on for longer, maybe now I’ll be stronger for the next three hundred sixty-five.

some days I’m okay, while others pull me to the ground. I’ll dig through dirt searching for happiness I thought I’d found. the darkness scares me more now that I see a chance at light; that flare of hope is pushing me to not give up the fight.

this is not the end of the book. you are right at the heart of it. keep reading.

this is a metamorphosis. not in terms of butterflies, where a tiny caterpillar hides away and emerges as something beautiful. but in terms of change. recovery. human development. adolescence does not come with a cocoon. there is no grand transformation to hold out for. just growth.

what a relief it is to live a life I am excited to wake up to.

if you think you are drowning, just remember: you float in water.

be grateful that time will heal the wounds but leave the scars. how else will you remember all that you’ve survived?