Old Enough to lose you by Emma burden

Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things
You need to lose your sense of self, of being, of her,
Of the person that you watch for behind each and every door,
A glimpse of her, a lock of hair
Of a yellow curl stuck to the shower wall,
Of a shard of her broken sunglasses,
Or a crumb from the sandwich she devoured –

Right before she devoured you –

You need to take kindness for granted,
You need to accept that love is not all consuming,
And let it consume you first,
Let it soak into your entire being,
Let holding her hand make way to holding her chin,
To holding her breasts and then
To holding the bags beneath her eyes as tears fall onto them –

She never did that to you. She never took care of you. She never dried your tears or held you or
loved you that same way –

You need to know what your version of kindness was before you lost it,
Before you learned how to be kind to yourself before others,
And to treat others the way you treat yourself, as cliche as that is –

Treat your best friend the way you treat yourself after therapy –

Stop looking for her face in a crowded city,
Stop looking for her house atop the ridge,
Stop looking for the kindness you sought from her
Look for that in yourself –

And she taught that to you inadvertently. She taught you how not to treat yourself. She taught
you what happens when love comes before kindness.

Pain –

Relish in the subway rides downtown,
How you and your two best friends always end up at Union Square
And how you say, no, I’m not going to take the L –

You take the L train anyways –

Think of the plush carpet beneath your feet in your childhood home, and how a calming voice
gives you that same sensation
Warmth beneath your feet
Warmth between your ears
Shag carpet that is worn down from years of walking, brushed thin with bare footsteps. Now it’s
plush –

And don’t forget you’re plush as well. That one day you will experience a kindness that exposes
how soft your skin really is