My mother used to knit my mittens
too big so they'd still fit me when
I grew. I wore them and I'd look
like what I wasn't yet. I feel that
sometimes … - Andrea Gibson
""
My mother used to knit my mittens too big so they'd still fit me when I grew. I wore them and I'd look like what I wasn't yet. I feel that sometimes when I'm writing my poems. They don't yet fit. Ever feel like the best of you is something you're still hoping to grow into?
WHEN ASKED IF I BELIEVE IN “GOOD PEOPLE,” I SAY I BELIEVE IN PEOPLE WHO ARE COMMITTED TO KNOWING THEIR OWN WOUNDS INTIMATELY. PEOPLE WHO READ THEIR WOUNDS’ DIARIES, WHO FOLLOW THEIR WOUNDS OUT WINDOWS, DOWN LADDERS, ASKING, “WHERE ARE YOU GOING? WHAT DO YOU NEED? HOW CAN I INTERVENE BEFORE A CRUEL THING IS DONE OR SAID?
There are few weapons more dangerous than our wounds, and, being wounded, there are things we all do that we would often rather die than face. But no one heals what they refuse to look at. So when asked if I think you’re a good person, I say, I don’t believe in good people. I believe in people who are committed to knowing their own wounds intimately.
You can stand on the cliff of my heart and shout nothing but ‘ugly’ through me. I promise all I will echo back is ‘Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty
