Beggars for Love.
By: Anna Rova
Tags: Sad, Hurt, Poetry, Life, Life Lessons

Anna Rova’s personal archive

People will hurt you.

They will walk over you as if you were broken glass.

Shattered into a million pieces.

They don’t care.

They will walk until they bleed and even then…

They will keep walking.

Because their pain is bigger than that.

Because that sadomasochism pleases them.

It makes them feel.

And they desperately want to feel.

Loved.

Appreciated.

Seen.

But instead of being loved, appreciated and seen they turn their heads around 180 degrees…

They live their lives with hearts forward and heads backward.

They don’t know what they want.

They don’t know who they are.

Their pain is so deep they can’t see it. They can’t smell it. They can’t hear it.

They’re blind to their pain and masquerade it with all their achievements and job descriptions.

But inside they’re little boys and girls who don’t know any better.

They so desperately want to be seen — they hurt other people begging for attention.

Beggars.

Beggars for love.

Beggars for attention.

Beggars for recognition.

But the only way they know how to get it is through making you small.

Through not having the courage to be vulnerable and say they fucked up.

And, sometimes, even when they admit their shortcomings, they’re still begging.

Begging for mercy.

Not having the balls to go through life with integrity, conviction and being a grown-up.

They’re like little children learning to play the violin never learning the proper positioning of their fingers on the strings.

They’re never going to be part of the grown-up orchestra.

And, sometimes, when they wake up and admit their faults…

It might be just a little too late.

Or a little too soon.

A little too much to bear.

A little too hurtful.

But our job is to release them.

Release them of the satisfaction of being hurt by them.

Release them of the pleasure to produce lasting traces that hurt.

Erase the traces ourselves.

Lick our own wounds and move on.

Understand that everyone is on their own journey.

Even if that journey is blindness.

In their own little box of begging for love.

Release and let them go.

Distinguish between those who are to be kept and those who don’t deserve to be in your field anymore.

Let’em go.

Have you toolbox of things you do to release. Cut that shit off. Stand strong in your own boundaries.

Guard your heart. Guard your tenderness.

But stay open.

Stay open to love.

Stay open to laughs.

Stay open to being broken.

By the beggars.

Thank the beggars for hurting you because in the hurt you realize that love is worth it.

The beggars will show you the despair and the misery that is so human, and oh, so natural.

But don’t confuse them for saviors.

They’re blood and mind suckers.

Don’t let them turn you into their own.

Don’t let them get so close so they bite your neck and convert you.

Stay strong. Stay the course.

Keep playing the violin. Keep being in the orchestra.

Hurt if it hurts.

Sad if it sads.

Be with it. Merge with it.

Feel it fully.

And then…

Let that shit go.

Let the beggars go with compassion.

They’re broken, fragile beings walking on their own blind path.

We’ve all been there.

So, to the beggar of yesterday, I say:

“I release you in peace.

Go your own way.

You don’t belong in my field.

You’ve taught me what’s right.

You’ve shown me what I don’t want.

Thank you.

Goodbye.”