Poetry Centre

  • Forgiveness

    walking the streets tonight was a feat
    waking up to eat, and shower, and exist
    was the bravest i could do today.

    mid-storm. with a hollow purpose,
    a fruitless love, empty words,
    it's disgraceful feeling like a traitor.

    My Family Will Never Be As Disappointed Of Me
    As I Am Of Myself. I Cannot Become
    The Person They Wish. Indestructible.

    the weight of our history falls heaviest on
    the eldest       the one        the hope of
    those who couldn't make it out,
    those who watch the clock run and the calendars yellow,
    those who make their dreams and their hopes mine.

    the seed i carry in me rots      with a depression,
    a tree watered with poison through a thousand seasons,
    in the mirror i see rows of hurting men and women
    who wear my face (and my father's and my mother's).

    hush was our daily bread feeling sadness,
    no tear was ever understood unwrapping
    generations of pain in foreign countries.

    Learning to Love Myself And Making A Home Of A Brain
    Prone To Hurricanes,
    I Forgive Them Like I'd Like To Forgive Myself.

    Abigail J. Villarroel

    Listen to the poem

    Abigail talks about his poem

    I watched a lot of YouTubers, especially black women, who went through depression and it made me not feel alone, like I wasn’t crazy, like I wasn’t manifesting these feelings inside of me. Because one of the things my parents would say like: well you shouldn’t feel these things, you shouldn’t be saying this, you say things, they will happen, you know. So I was happy, I was like: you know what? I’m not crazy! These girls are going through it too and these girls are beautiful, and they’re thinking of things about themselves, like let alone little old me. Someone was saying it was OK, I felt them as well. You’re not a bad person because you feel these things, you’re not less than because you feel these things, you’re just human.

    An interview with a Brookes student