Forgiveness

How many times have I heard my voice in my mind saying "your fault"?  
Many.
Name the times I went over the words "I messed up...again" in my mind? 
Many.
The default sensation that I wasn't good enough, could've done better? 
Many. 
Maybe the discomfort of wishing you were different or had done things differently? 
Many. 

Why?

I've lived amongst those that breathe through, for, and with shame.  Feeling shameful, just shameful. 
I inhaled the air thinking it was fresh but became stale as it entered my lungs. Apologizing for exhaling. 
I felt unworthy, deservingly isolated, with the obscure thought that maybe if I was not here things would be better, or easier. 
I recognize the punishing monologues that crush you to the ground, where even silence is unbearable. 

It's not eternal, and it's not doom. 
No one is doomed, no matter how true you might feel it so. 
Every single living creature has the seed of being art--the best it could be. 
Where best is just "being you". 

I now listen to the hymn of beauty and light, and believe in my strength. No one taught it to me, I discovered it, for it is my song and before me no one has sung it. 
Worry not.
Be not afraid. 
Fear not.
Fear lives like ice: within cold, freezing, bitterly chilly lands.  A little light, warmth, and it will drain and drip through your skin. 

The seed of your best. It lives, and will be the last thing to extinguish and abandon you. 
Forgive yourself, and smell like flowers. 
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