Atone / Poem

A few months ago I deleted a lot of poems off my blog because I was compiling a poetry manuscript in the hopes of publishing it. A lot of those poems were rough first drafts anyway, but still one of my favourite parts of the blog.

I now have a poetry collection, unpublished, but something I’ve worked on consistently since June. Poems have been edited, pulled apart, taken out, put back in. Two people have read it; a friend and a sister, offering beautiful feedback and constructive criticism and giving me more to edit than I would have known to do myself.

I am trying to get it traditionally published, but I think if nothing happens then sometime next year I’ll start looking into self-publication. A lot of contemporary poets were discovered through their first self-published book rather than agents picking up their manuscript, and in all honesty, I just want to hold my words in a book.

I’ve also been trying to grow a writing platform on Instagram as well as this blog. I’ve been posting short poems consistently on Instagram (my longer poems don’t really suit Instagram’s format) and because of that I thought – I want to start posting creative writing on my blog again.

Sharing creative writing on my blog was so good for me and I loved it. I loved my Creative Fridays, and my blog is special to me in a way social media isn’t. And if I’m posting on Instagram, there’s no reason to not post creative content on my blog too.

Wow, that was a long introduction considering the title of this post is literally a poem. But it’s here now, we made it, thank you for getting through the prelude.

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Atone (written by Sarah Bennett)

When I close my eyes I am twelve.

Not yet haunted by hope that does not flower yet still devoured by what can go wrong, the tang of regret, the shuddering silence of shame.

She looks innocent, vulnerable. I pray that look returns to me.

I tell her to cling to Jesus, to learn the beauty of letting someone else know she needs them.

I apologise to her and forgive myself, over and over until I cannot tell whether I am the victim or the oppressor. I wonder if it is possible to be both at the same time.

She is innocent, vulnerable. I believe her to be blameless but she doesn’t believe it herself. This is what I apologise for. This is the wrong my future self will spend a lifetime trying to make right.

She looks down and I wonder when she became afraid of what was in front of her. She wants to be known but is scared to be seen. She is worried for the future.

I still am.

Only I am trying to face it with chin up, meeting the horizon with determination. I will right my wrongs. I will greet tomorrow with arms open wide. I will let her know things turn out okay, I turn out okay.

Slowly, she is accepting what she cannot change.

Slowly, we are accepting each other.

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In my manuscript, this is actually the first poem. They’re in alphabetical order, and I think this poems encapsulates the themes of self-acceptance and healing that run through the entire collection.

As always, I’d love to know what you think!

Sarah xx