Sadness knows my address
but joy is a passing stranger,
I can only say this in poems,
Anywhere else people will worry.
I have whispered more wounds
into the wind than I care to count.
On painful days, these wounds won’t let go.
The worst story I know is my heart.
The best story I know is my heart.
Both these things know how to exist together
in ways that I never thought I would learn.
This is a silent victory.
I never wanted a victory dipped in gold.
All I want is one day to write a poem
that is more than a litany of excuses
to survive another day.
One day I want to write a poem
that says, “I am alive.
I forgive myself.
And I love myself despite it all.”
- Nikita Gill, A Sad Girl’s Love Song