spindrift (poem)
until nothing ancient is left.
Most of my friendships over the past decade have been online within a niche community, which means so are all of my mistakes (thanks Discord). People I don’t even know seem to believe they know more about me than they really do, because a friend of an ex-friend showed them a screenshot or told them a story about a time where I was unkind at twenty-two. Now, I’m not perfect these days either, but I am not the same person at twenty-nine as I was even four years ago. It’s life. We grieve, we grow, we reflect, and we learn.
But here’s the thing about growth. Not everyone wants to see you do it. There will be people so desperate to cling to past versions of you to justify their own inability to grow, learn, and change. It doesn’t matter who you have become when to them it will only ever matter who you were. Those people will never be satisfied no matter how much people-pleasing and attoning you attempt. They will drag you down over and over and over into the depths of your worst mistakes if you let them. Listen, never explain yourself to people who aren’t listening in good faith and never get on your knees for people who want to see on you on the ground. Let them believe what they want. You know who you are, and that’s what matters most. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.
spindrift
forsaken at
point nemo,
i drug myself
through
hadal waters
fighting my way
towards
the shoreline
with only
the currents
to guide me.
the ocean,
too unforgivable
a thing
for search
and rescue.
my charybdal
heart not worth
the risk of
the best of men.
and here,
i hoped
they’d be
looking
for me,
to pull me from
the tides.
hair wet,
skin shriveled,
water expunging
the sin from
my mouth.
yet,
for all that
drifting,
i was still
more sea witch
than survivor.
my feet hit sand,
stumbling upon
the coastline
depth-dazed,
i am met
with anchor
and chain.
the seaweed
forced
between my
teeth,
my head
plunged
underwater
so they can
pretend at
god.
i become
salt to sea,
the dissolving
of myself into
spindrift
until nothing
ancient is
left.
until no man
can make me
become what
i am no longer.
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the poem is very beautiful, i always enjoy reading something from you. i think people want to push us to become worse versions of ourselves because they don't want to accept that we've gotten better. our growth means that change is possible, and they simply don't want to get better themselves. they want us to stay down so they can comfortably remain as their worse versions too. or sometimes, maybe they're scared to "lose" us once we improve. they want us to be as bad as they are just so they can keep us like a possession.
wow this is incredible and a great message!!