To My Haters

August 13, 2024

To the ones who judge me without knowing,
Who’ve built walls of assumptions tall,
I ask, what is it in me that stirs you?
What shadow of mine casts over your view?
You’ve committed to a picture drawn in haste,
Yet know not the colors of my true taste.
If you seek to understand beyond the veil,
My door is open, let’s share our tale.

To the ones who shun my vibe, my face,
Whose gaze meets mine but finds no grace,
I see through the lens you choose to wear,
A reflection of your world, not mine to bear.
I am not the image you perceive,
But a story unfiltered, raw, and real.
If you wish to see beyond your filter’s hue,
I’m here, ready to see your point of view.

To the ones who scorn my honest tongue,
For saying the truths that burn your lung,
Know that I speak not to wound or blame,
But to live a life free of hidden shame.
I’ve spent too long in shadows deep,
Now, I choose the light, no secrets to keep.
If my words pierce, it’s not my aim,
But a call to truth, in life’s own name.

I welcome dialogue, I welcome growth,
But I reject falsehood, both loud and slow.
If you come with masks or hidden knives,
Know that I see through those covert lies.
But I also know there’s pain beneath,
A wound that drives the need to seethe.
I hold no malice, just hope and light,
That we might all find peace in the night.

So read these lines, and take a pause,
Reflect on your hate, its root, its cause.
For in this world, so vast, so wide,
We all have shadows we cannot hide.
But through compassion, through honest gaze,
We might just find a brighter phase.
For what you see in me, is a mirror too,
A chance to see yourself anew.

0 Comments

Crossing the River of Triggers

Crossing the River of Triggers

Here’s what I’m learning lately: if I pause, step back from my ego, and simply listen, everything changes. For me, the challenge has been triggers—the old...

We Are Complicit

We Are Complicit

When tragedy strikes close to home—when children are killed in our towns, our schools—our grief is rightfully loud. Headlines flash, vigils are held, tears...

Why Scripts Feel Like Theft

Why Scripts Feel Like Theft

I finally got clarity on why I absolutely hate calling customer support. It’s not the wait times. It’s not even the bad hold music. It’s that every...