To be perfectly, painfully human
There is no person on this earth
who will walk into your life
and make you feel
There will be nobody
that can give you the love you want
to fill the cracks inside you
and never disappoint.
This is the gift to be perfectly,
You are and have always been
The one to give yourself the.
Exact. Foolproof. Blend. Of love.
That exquisite concoction
grown from all the right seeds.
Watered all of your lives.
Tended just inside your flesh
created for your own
It exists inside your own
Drink from your own nectar
and whisper to your own ears,
words of gentle tender love.
Come back to your own heart.
Give yourself the love your mother eventually failed you of.
The attention you sought so desperately as a child from your father.
You are your own perfect parents.
The only love
without any flaws,
defects or shortcomings
is the one you drink voraciously
or sip delicately
from the cup of your own bones.
And so we continue hope,
And learn to fill up from within.
And then one day.
When we are old enough.
We forgive the humanness and the yearning in others
and ourself enough.
Enough to embark
on this thing
we call loving each other.
This messy, chaotic, risky business
of offering oneself to another
in such beautiful hope
fulfillment and meaning.
It is so perfectly, painfully human.
By Gwenivere Weiss, former student: Cycle Awareness Winter 2019
Poetess. Intuitive Witch. Registered Psychotherapist. Self-compassion Enthusiast. Meditation + Movement Lover.