Tension? by Rebecca Kurt

Rebecca Kurt

Absolutely, I am so good at tension.
I hold it in my shoulders,
My jaw,
My heart.
I believed that altruism and self-sacrifice
Were everything.
It broke me.

The day I loved myself enough to love a woman…
It broke me.
The day I loved myself enough to write through the night…
It broke me.
The day I loved myself enough to admit I was drowning…
It broke me.

It tore me limb from limb.
This grotesque idea
That I only mattered for others.
When it peeled back my lungs,
I saw there was no me…
Only the need to make everyone
So comfortable.
I am so uncomfortable.

So I said: no more.
I left for five months.
Lived in another world.
Hedonistic almost…
In my search for myself.
I didn’t find me completely
Just parts.

I’m back…
And there’s this tension.
I can’t breathe.
I feel like a bad person.
Am I?
For not wanting to give my life
To help.

Pouring from myself,
I really am empty.
This refilling they speak of,
This reward,
It does not come to me.

I hate it.
How can I admit?
I love to write,
And read,
And dance,
And cook,
And eat,
And travel,
And run,
And love.

I do love to love.
In all ways.
I want to love well.
In all the things I love.
Can I just love and not

Rebecca is currently a Junior in the BSW (social work) program. She studied abroad last semester and loves travel and language. Habla español bastante bien, but is not quite comfortable saying she can speak a second language yet. Things that make her heart happy include going to the gym, eating ice cream, petting beautiful dogs, and reading YA novels when she should be doing her homework.


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