Just scream into the void

empty space, mine

A wrinkle in time
Heart won’t slow
Eyes can’t stay closed
Set the clock to rewind

Listen can you hear me
I lost my breath out there
Extracted every emotion
Floating about feeling free

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Her path of authenticity

She thanked her profusely for never following through with her suicidal thoughts. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if there were actual attempts. She just let her brain assume so, but prayed there weren’t and won’t be anymore.
Fear…

These two are so freakishly alike it’s a beautiful harmonious connection. They’ve shared those thoughts as if these were good bonding moments. Really what it says is, “I know better than anyone, and understand your heavy heart, the devastating pain and deepest hurts you’re feeling”. Her mama couldn’t possibly know how she felt exactly, but the agony resonated. The feelings of complete despair and just a desire for the pain to stop. Yeah, that she gets.
Confusion…

Mama sits with her, she’s learning to listen, really hear her child’s anguish, obstacles, fears and all the past that floods her head and it all pours out. Sometimes her words are accompanied with anger and outbursts still, almost always with tears and probably for a long while still with confusion of what to do next. “Take it slow, but definitely at your pace”, she encourages her.
Processing…

Let her just vomit her words so the poison is extracted. “It’s ok”, she tells her, “I can hold it for you sweetie, I can take it”. Mama knows her frustration isn’t about her necessarily. She can be her sounding board, but not her punching bag or doormat. She’s learned that part of detachment pretty well. It’s not without difficulty when it’s your own child.
Unconditional…

Ever since she was 12 her favorite expression was, “I got this mom”. And you know, she always has. Mama smiles intently at her, “I know baby, but it’s ok not to have it all figured out right here right now. Give time time and let things come to you naturally when you can. Forcing solutions can be frustrating as hell, as can sitting still, I know”.
Wisdom…

Their talks are more frequent now and her mama is grateful for the relief she sees in her child’s face more often, now and then, here and there. This is only the beginning of all the transitions ahead, yet the only thing that ever matters to her mama is her children’s happiness, contentment and feeling loved, all of them.
Closeness…

She gave birth to her and her brothers, she has them all on borrowed time and she knows this too well. Time is fleeting and life is precious. How quickly it can disappear, how fragile it actually is. Guilt consumes her some days. The “if only’s” play out in her head and she cries. Sadness overwhelms her at times and she makes time to call her child just to say I love you. She can’t seem to hug her tight enough when she sees her. Never again will she ever feel her mama’s absence, nor will her brothers.
Available…

The best path to travel 👆🏼

She thinks they still need her as they always have, but really it’s mama who’s needing them more.
Present…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

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

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

RIP to her former self

Human rights validated by the One Who Created us all… 🏳️‍⚧️

The struggle she faces so torn up inside
They knew from the beginning how to divide

This upheaval of emotions riddled in fear
She couldn’t find the words so her secret she held near

As she grew up to question her true value and self
She learned to conform with her feelings on the shelf

The rage burned within while she cried and she screamed
Life was getting harder than she could have dreamed

Since the day she was born it was known only to her
The truth of the matter was more than a blur

Her pain continued to grow with every passing day
Nothing ever felt quite right but how could she stray

Amongst the many battles she had to dread
None of them compare to the one inside her head

The worst part of all that rips at her heart
Is the lack of acceptance that tears her life apart

This road she travels has been worn by others shoes
They’ve trekked long before and still they fight to prove

Get over your fucking selves you judgmental, close minded, ignorant ones
Human race filled with indifferences, these are our daughters and these are our sons

Intolerance will start a war blatantly with hate
At the end of our lives who’ll be the ones standing at the gate

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Remember so not to forget

Photographic memory 📸

Did you know that when I spoke your name it hurt so much I changed it to stop feeling the pain?

Remember when we played that same game, you called me your girl and showed me how to feel shame?

Tequila was your best friend and melted your brain. It’s what made you start to go insane.

That fly over there, hanging on the wall, knew before I could admit I was about to free fall.

Can you see down the pipe to the mud and the muck? What’s that but me, your most favorite piece of ass just to fuck.

She has this flame engulfed and fueled by rage. This girl won’t be contained any longer in her cage.

Did you know I held up this white flag of surrender? A daunting task but someone needs to remember.

Can you hear me down the road that now divides us forever? I’m shouting from my side, across the line that’s been drawn. You think you are so clever.

She listened to my cries and then words that she said, I hushed them to remind her all the tears that I have shed.

She then held my hand, looked me gently in the eye and said, yes and remember all the tears that you have shed.

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

The pieces of me

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art.

We break up just to make up, but the truth is I never knew I could love so deeply and be broken so completely.

At 14 he began to steal my innocence, but I didn’t understand. I learned to be invisible not to take his brand.

Manipulation was the name of the game, but it was never myself that was to blame.

Insidiously he took from me every bit of trust, but it wasn’t my fault it was his lust.

My insides eroded as I seethed with anger and rage, but still I was trapped within my cage.

I chased love like a marathon runner who lost, but I kept up the pace no matter the cost.

It was at my own expense and deprivation that drove me straight to you, but I was convinced from the start I could see right through.

Dance with me was my wish, pull me close, never let me go to grieve, but you wouldn’t give instead you chose to leave.

Our agreement established by the one called master became null and void with the final slap, but had it not, forever I would’ve been snared in your most dangerous trap.

See your marks, how they still remain, the ones you said I deserve and had to earn, but once I thought, when will a good girl such as me ever learn?

You chose this with all your reality and truth revealed, but how would you expect me to keep it all concealed?

Manipulation, coercion, control and trickery used  for destruction to tear me down, but you yourself put on my special, sparkling queen’s crown.

Every night my body poured into yours, but I was merely just one of your whores.

She must be fucked in the head, but it doesn’t matter since now she is long but dead

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

This 12×12 space

Empty space filled with love 💗

Is where I feel safe I can hide from it all

Nothing can touch my heart I won’t fall

My life is flashing quickly before my eyes

It’s taken this long for me to become wise

Regrets I work hard not to have or to hold

Lessons I choose to admire as I grow old

Thank you for sharing your secrets in my ear

I’ve been holding my fondest memories very near

I always thought I could make my heart feel better

All it’s ever truly been is a broken delicate fracture

The pain I’ve worn has shown me what I need

At times it cries out as blood trickles and I bleed

When did all this time escape and pass me right by

Why do I continue to waste it and be made to cry

Because he left when I was merely a baby girl

Then again when she died leaving me in a whirl

The door has been open wide

Waiting for you to come on inside

Those who have walked through broke me more

No one else can have me as I begin to explore

Life is becoming what I make it up to be

The best thing I know is that I’m finally feeling free

✍🏼🧖🏼‍♀️

Spiritually enslaved

“Bound”
https://www.instagram.com/p/CGgFs07Ar5-/?igshid=1v9zqun43nt1a

I could feel the famine as my tastebuds were tricked into savoring and becoming addicted to the flavor from the essence of meeting my needs. The chains that held me captive, though heavy, kept me trapped in a belief that this was my worth and value.

My survival mode is what told me to remain with my broken pieces for if I broke the lock that was cinched so tightly, how would I be fed the morsels that kept me alive?

There was a point I was so deep within the struggle I couldn’t see another way. This was my comfort food, my nourishment that sustained me for 1 day increments. The rest of my days, I was starving.

The dungeon was dark, cold and despairing, but it felt familiar and safe somehow. The rituals, protocols and rules overtook me. I didn’t know I was in danger, mentally and physically being tormented as my soul cried out.

One day I saw a link that had rusted and became like glue, but looking closer, I noticed another that had cracked. This precious piece had been compromised as I wiggled it a little each day. Days, weeks, months even years had passed and though this once sturdy link, now weakened over time, gave me strength I hadn’t known before.

Could it be that if these restraints were all removed that I could withstand the release and experience freedom, have joy and peace, comfort and feel loved? Terrified I would die, remain lost and starve forever, I found ways to begin to break away.

Consumed with questions, paralyzed by my own answers and fearing the truth, I embraced the idea and took that first leap. What was about to happen I couldn’t know or see and where I was going to end up I couldn’t reach, not yet.

Day 1, I learned to take a big gulp of the new air I had never smelled before. Day 2, I felt new strength as my legs stood taller and walked a little farther down the path. Day 3, I tasted this sweet flavor that was clearing my palette that I’d never experienced before.

Day 150, my appetite has gone from destruction to reconstruction of my spirit. What I craved all those years was never going to be enough to make me
feel full. Your fish are not that delicious, but my Fathers fridge is full! I haven’t been eating the wrong things, I’ve been getting them from the wrong source.

He has done for me what I couldn’t consider and by doing so, He created room to receive the truth, the peace, the love, comfort and joy. Welcome to my funeral for the rabble as I enjoy the new feast.

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️

He’s some kind of a sorcerer

Philippians 4:13
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me

He had cast a spell over me some time ago. I loved him when he was hurting me. I trusted him not to do it again. I believed him when he said he loved me. I questioned him in my mind and answered it to my heart.

It was he who disappointed me. It was he who lied with every word falling from his lips. It was he who deceived me. It was he who took pleasure while I suffered. It was he who tore it all apart.

I can see clearly now that the physical and daily mental pain has gone astray, the kind you inflicted upon me.

I feel clarity washing over me, the kind that allows me to see clearly.

I taste a little freedom now and then since making real choices as decisions are declared over my life by me now.

I smell the fragrance of life since I’ve been unshackled from being devoured whole and fed nonsense by you.

Today I can pause, it’s a must, to pay attention to my breath for this is all I can trust.

Because of you I walked away from all that I knew, believed in, held tight to, counted on and grew.

Thank you for the release from ties that kept me bound, for had you not I wouldn’t have the courage to stand firmly on this ground.

Time under tension increases strength and power, so is it no wonder I’ve come back to my One and only strong tower.

How grateful to you I have a new found peace and revel in the quiet moments to worship, glorify and to hear, the gentle whispers of my God who is always near.

Uncluttered is my heart, open it to receive, let my mind become sharper, it is honestly in You I deeply believe.

✍🏻🧝🏻‍♀️