Don’t live like the sky is falling

When will the other shoe drop I used to wonder. It always did. I’d sit and wait and impatiently ponder.

Would she come home drunk yet again? Better prepare supper just in case, either way I wasn’t going to win.

I was to you the brightest shining star. Your precious baby girl, but you let things get too far.

It wasn’t really your fault for my undoing. Somewhere along the line you lost your footing.

Could I simply walk to kitchen without him peering? I’d try to sneak by and she would catch you leering.

What was my crime for being a young teenaged girl? You were a twisted man getting a cheap sick thrill.

Work harder to be invisible from the attention, maybe it would stop. Such a fucking nightmare waiting for the other shoe to drop.

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Relearning how to breathe

Taking it slow, one breath at a time🌬🐢

My assignment she gave me, a grief letter with instructions what to do
Write it out on paper like somehow that will help me get over you

She hears my heart and knows I’ve been drifting awhile
Angrily I told her, please help me to stop obsessing so I can once again find my smile

The opener would say, no one ever fought for me, but I never stopped swinging, fighting for that love
A broken little girl who just desired to be wanted and cherished simply for who I was

I know my daddy loves me, the 20 times I saw him he told me this as so
You reminded me of the same, in fact the words went like this, “I said that I love you, once was enough for you to know”

All these years I’ve been working on my insides, mending what needs fixing, soothing what needs comfort, fighting for what ought to be freely given
I can see it in the distance, how life is supposed to go and I am choosing the path that shows me what it’s like to be living

Coulda shoulda woulda such a tormented little game
I’ll start to leave those phrases out, the ones which lay forth all the blame

Grief is like a party for us who show up to play the part
But really for me, all it does is remind me of my hurting, fractured heart

The conclusion might read something along these blurred lines and such
We are all a little flawed, imperfect little humans, but for me, I don’t ask for much

I can articulate my pain, sadness and struggles better than most
But for you all, no no, pour another round, raise your glass high to give yourself a toast

Thank God for my journey and path where it has led
I lay myself down at night, taking it all in as I curl up in my bed

I pray for the lost, the weary and weak
For those who still suffer looking at life as it were bleak

Each and every one who has taken something from me
I am being restored by grace and honor and even with a little more dignity

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)

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