Current mood: reflective
I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes,
unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.I'm telling you,
I cried until my nose was running all over
the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of
soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired,
or too mad to cry.I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored,
disrespected, and
disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me
in the ways others did to me
the same things I had already done to myself.I cried for all the things I had given,
only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that
had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished,
only to give them away,
to people in circumstances,
which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.I cried because there really does
come a time when the only thing left
for you to do is cry.Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get
left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy
who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there
for me so badly until I ached.Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt.
I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that
caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there,
the hurt wakes you up.I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything I needed to know.I cried a soulful cry yesterday,
and it felt so good.It felt so very, very bad.In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because Yesterday,
I cried with an agenda.
Iyanla Vanzant
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This poem is an old favorite. Iyanla Vanzant also wrote a book by the same title. I've read this poem many times and each time I get something new from it, just like I did today when I read this poem for the ninth hundred thousandth time.
