Poemetry by T.A. Barnhart


i’d like to think better of myself,
but i find that’s hard to do
given that its me.
my long habit,
my comfort zone,
is closer to self-hate than self-love.
it just feels more natural,
more deserving,
more me.
don’t bother telling me
what i already know:
i need to learn to be kind
to myself.
i’m working it.
the problem is, of course,
it’s me i’m dealing with.
being kind to a person
i don’t think deserves kindness?
on top of everything else,
i need to perform a miracle?
that’s asking a lot
of me.
but if not me, than who?
i am, after all,
the one i am stuck with.

©TA Barnhart January 17, 2021