The Seeds

Love

We want it,

we crave it,

But once it finds us

Why do we run and evade it?

It feels like I have a two- year curse

Seven failed loves,

Each one ending worse.

I never seem to cross that mark

Do I pick the wrong ones from the start?

Or do I self-sabotage when things get deep?

Letting fears be the guard I keep?

I say, I want a husband

A life partner, a father-to-be

Yet deep down,

There's something still haunting me.

The truth?

I hate men.

And I don't trust them.

And maybe the roots run far.... far back

A history that has shaped how I react.

Maybe it was watching my three aunts,

when I was younger

Getting beaten and bruised

Or my mother, at seven months pregnant

being kicked across the room

And with me in her womb,

I felt her fear, her pain and her doom

Or maybe it was my uncles,

Pretending to be honest

Meaning while trafficking humans and drugs

Or maybe it was the blood relative who makes my skin crawl,

A presence that I've never felt safe near him at all

But I'm done.

I'm done growing a seed I have never asked to plant.

I'm done carrying burdens that were never my stance.

And I take full ownership now.

Yes, I have allowed these memories to steer.

Shaping my perceptions, my choices, my fear

But I have come to realized

That if this is the narrative of men that I perceive

Then this is the narrative that I will continue to attract

If I see danger in men, danger keeps coming back

So, I'm done.

I'm pulling this seed out of my chest.

The seed that had been buried deep,

But it's time to rest

And yes, it will hurt.

I know it will,

Because the decades-deep roots

Don't come out on its will

Because it wants familiarity

What they misunderstood as clarity

But I'm willing to purge it,

To heal what was grown,

To sooth the scar tissue,

I've long outgrown

And now,

I will plant new seeds instead.

One of hope,

One of love

one that is not dread

A seed that believes

That not all men are bad

A seed that allows,

The love I've never had.

A seed that will bloom,

in the way the serves me for my highest good.

A seed full of wisdom,

From where my ancestors stood.

Sincerely,

Suree

Artwork by: Suree Sompamitwong