Even in my darkest lost places
It felt worth it
To be special.
Even on the days I knew
That my choices had become expensive
Even then
It felt worth it
To be special-
Heightened
Glowing
Pulsating brilliance through my veins
Profound in ways that even if missed by the world, mattered still.
One day a doctor knocked on my door and gave me a bottle of kindness.
It stole the darkness
Torched the lost places
And sent me home.
But is it worth it
To be not special?
To open fresh eyes to a world where I was never great?
Nor unflinchingly strong or kind
Not brave
Just sick?
Is it worth it to know
I will never be special?
Trading fragile breath for sleep
A genius on the precipice
Of never becoming
Free.
My daughter’s soft shoulders answer me.
It is worth it.
Even if everyone else misses me.
Even if they think the best parts of me are gone.
Even if so do I.
I look at her and know it is worth it
To see her through a lens not filtered by false eyes.
It is worth it
To be less than ordinary.
To have the world see me as such, if they see me at all.
It is worth it to be back down, here on Earth
Holding her hand
Not the other way around.
It is worth it
Boring and muted
Colorblind
And cold.
I know it is worth it
To be not special.
***
Erin Harer is a Northern California writer whose work explores the universal themes of love, loss, and the resilience of the human spirit. When she’s not writing, you can find her driving on the back roads of Sonoma County, eating cheese with her daughter, or petting dogs.
Poet’s Instagram: @erin.harer
Website: erinharer.com
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