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Back to Myself

Back to Myself

I am away from all the charm

all the warmth

all the glitter

all the decorations of the world

I am not here

to perform before a crowd

I am away from glory

no proud moments

nothing to show

nothing to exhibit

I cannot finish a movie

not even a book

I get stranded on a scene

a page

while leafing through a book

a parrot watches me

from one of the branches

in my garden

I let my imagination

fly with it

until it disappears

into the sky

I do not mind

that is what the people I meet

read on my face

even if I stand there

like a seagull

looking into their eyes

waiting for a thoughtful remark

no

I tell myself

do not waste yourself

trying to change someone

they will remain

who they are

maybe

you should stop

doing everything alone

leave some burden

for others

leave some work

for others

you alone

cannot carry stones

on your back

rest your sack

oh

I am back

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One response to “Back to Myself”

  1. Sheknowsallblog Avatar
    Sheknowsallblog

    This is exactly right. The exhaustion in this poem isn’t from what you’re doing—it’s from the performing, the trying, the impossible work of carrying stones alone while other people remain unmoved. That parrot moment is perfect. You let your imagination fly with it and didn’t feel the need to explain that moment to anyone else. That *is* living. That’s the freedom you’re reclaiming. And then that final instruction to yourself: “leave some burden for others.” That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom. You alone cannot carry the world. The moment you stop trying, you become yourself again. “Oh, I am back.” Yes. Welcome home. 💙

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