Light Filters In: Poems

by Caroline Kaufman

I’ve spent so much time trying to become who I should be that I lost myself along the way.

using your name would make you human when you have only ever been a heartless nightmare to me.

this numbness that holds me sweetly like a lover, it runs through each artery like the life that never was.

am an incomplete masterpiece, full of crossed-out words and changes. no one ever calls the first draft beautiful, and I will never be the final piece.

conclusion: I am lovable.

smoke rising from the hood, heart beating out of my chest, breath slow and shaky, trying not to cry.

that flare of hope is pushing me to not give up the fight.

find yourself in a page. look at where you are. find your past in the pages before. look at all that you have survived. find your future in the pages after. look at all that you have ahead. this is not the end of the book. you are right at the heart of it.

revolving doors feel relentless, but I promise there is an exit, a surface to the sadness you are drowning in.

they will bloom whenever you smile, and smile when they get to see you bloom.

it’s okay that you’re not perfect I will love you anyway.

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

don’t ask for respect; demand it. don’t look for opportunity; grab it. don’t add to the world; change it.

I am beautiful in the way I fought back when I was buried. I turned the dirt and mud into soil, and grew.