The Unwilling
Will I ever rise?
Or have I fallen too far?
The anxiety is shadowed by paranoia.
Peacekeeping is a coward’s refuge.
Acceptance is the shackle I’ve chosen.
I’m smothered by a cliché:
“You always have a choice.”
Do I?
When empathy is the liquid in my veins?
When the price of self-healing is self-betrayal?
I plant seeds that grow ugly.
I bleed out exhaustion to cradle beauty
Still, more is demanded of me.
To whom can I turn?
The God I deliberately betray?
Proud prayers wrapped in a desperate plea.
A sinner’s remorse:
The rejection of one necessary answer.
I’ve learned not to rely on people.
For their narrow gaze limits true value.
Their minds cling to fabrications.
Their hearts only appreciate offerings
beneficial to their immediate desires.
My pain is mine alone to nurse.
My worth is measured in productivity.
Not presence.
Not humanity.
I deserve this.
Not the life I wanted,
just the one I permitted.
By standing still.
By letting the fear of the unknown
dictate the direction for the unwilling.
Carelessly, I called this “fate.”
A somber reality startles me.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t be better.
I didn’t believe I should be.
I fed my doubt,
Watered my shame.
Now all that’s left is this:
Harvesting regret,
as if it were the only crop I could grow.
11 thoughts on "The Unwilling"
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this one is a poem to read twice
Thank you, Charles. That means a lot! I definitely wrote it with layers that don’t always reveal themselves right away, so I appreciate you giving it a second read.
This is poetry, this makes change.
Yes, I agree, read twice.
Thanks for sharing this.
Thanks so much, Coleman. That’s one of the best things I could hear—that it sparked something meaningful. I’m grateful it resonated, and thank you for reading it more than once.
Thank you for using fearless, vulnerable language.
The journey from planting ugly seeds to harvesting regret is heavy with opportunities for reflection.
Christina, your words truly encouraged me. I’m glad the vulnerable language came through. It was tough to get out. Thank you for recognizing and acknowledging that.
Good questions asked throughout this. The moment of self-reflection in second to last stanza–the “By standing still”–is quite sobering, because don’t we all do that to some extent?
Thank you! You nailed it with “sober reflection.” That stanza was especially personal for me, and you’re right… standing still is something we all wrestle with more than we’d like to admit.
Harvesting regret as if it were the only crop I could grow. 👏
Thank you for your acknowledgment, J.E. Glad you found that line as compelling as I did when writing it.
Very philosophical in language and ideas. A real, authentic, and relatable voice really comes through in the words here. Great work!!