The story ends the same, but the antagonist has changed over the years. Our protagonist starts out being the sister of the best friend, hidden in plain sight, but must lurk in shadows. Her first lesson of worth, disguised as thrill. Boys parading in and out, in awe of this sparkling star, only to look at a different horizon. False saviors selling stories of love and desire. Talking of building and loyal branding. A tale as old as time. Lust and conquest were truly the objective. Yeah, the antagonist changed over the years, but our protagonist became a pawn while standing in the Queen position. The narrative shifted. Her dream forming, and so she became her own writer. Now a new story line begins.
Category: Uncategorized
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Unyielding: A Mother’s Love
I didn’t want to be strong today. The familiar tone of a doctor when news was coming. Knowing that whatever is being said, you must listen and not react. Seeing my baby on the table, unaware what this means. She isn’t 8 months old anymore—this time she’s closer to 15 years old. Words, words you didn’t ever expect to hear again. Failure to thrive. I didn’t want to be strong. The shadows of our past coming to have another shot at us. To try and take my baby girl. Blood work, possible spinal issues, stunted growth, implications of long term damage. As if autism and other medical issues haven’t stolen enough. I didn’t want to be strong, but for her I was.
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Reflections Of My Legacy
I’m the girl you can’t stop thinking about. Long after you made choices that lost me, you’re left wondering if I’m happy, what I’m up to?! Did she change or is she still that little firecracker? I’m the one you may nestle next to someone else and think about what life would have looked like. It’s not conceit, it’s evidence. A lifetime of men that span back from days before I even became a woman. They reach out to reminisce, catch up, and at some point, still confess feelings for me. Every single man I’ve had a real connection or relationship with, they all have this something about me I can’t let go of. That is my magic. My light. My essence of life and passion and joy and laughter. When they see me, the shift in their eyes from excitement to despair because of the loss of me hits them as the excitement of seeing me smile takes them through a wave of emotions I must witness. Lessons, you were all my lessons. The ones I never wanted and still had to endure. Tears for the one I never wanted to be nothing to are tucked away like the imperfect side of a Christmas tree. You got the life you chose, and I get to wait for the one who chooses me.
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Reflection Of A Faded Light
I spent so much time in my own world. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that you would never show up. I would only be given fragments. The light that once surrounded who we should have been is as cold and dark as a winter night. I don’t know if it was ego or my emotional attachment to what I saw so clearly and felt in my heart. I struggle with letting go. I know what it looks like. I will wrap it up neatly, put it in a box, and send it off. I may think about it from time to time, but I won’t want any version of it around to linger. The only thing that will remain is the memories and lessons. You will become part of my growth and nothing more.
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Fragile Honesty
Today, I didn’t feel strong. Tears came to me while I was driving in the car and on the field. Be gentle with myself – a silent reminder that I must listen to my heart. My legs felt shaky. I let the music take over, and time slipped by. Lying on the grass, I rolled over and smelled it. You. I think of you. The smell of grass, the field, the music that shuffled – the voice that always gives me the push I need. I didn’t feel strong, and somehow being fragile felt more honest.
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Angels Have Claws
Humans tell you they aren’t for you for real. All those small, disrespectful remarks, completely ignoring your boundaries, then trying to downplay it as if your feelings are insignificant. They’re telling you. Watching just how far they can go before you push back. Some take a long time, some never do. And then, well, there’s the one that needs to remind people that angels do in fact have claws.
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Sacred Ruins
Freedom from my cage, under the sky,
the catacombs of my heart have remained untouched.
Hidden ruins that look more like a sacred temple,
which only I visit with reverence.
I can feel the warmth shine like the sun
kissing my skin on a Tuesday in June. There I feel you.
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Embers of Radiance
After months, the last of the venom left my body.
Stripped down bare, only my essence remains
That glow.
The light in my eyes, that sparkle… all me.
My solitude is not a refuge,
but my wonderland of freedom.
Freedom to embrace everything that shines for me.
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The Art of Vigilance
They will call you paranoid, untrusting. When truly, it’s wisdom through trial. Some people, like myself, can’t trust our food or drink to not be tampered with. We are seeing through different lenses. Your level of assurance means nothing to their offense. Blind loyalty can only hold true if you make it through life without the mark of society’s darkest minds.
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The Art of Unpacking
‘Baggage.’ That word in itself sounds harsh, ugly, a daunting task. I was told having kids was baggage that would prevent me from love. That all my past would be too much for anyone to unpack. It was recently mentioned to me again. ‘Two people with so much baggage – what could they possibly offer?’ I have thought about it endlessly, swirling in my head for so long. The answer keeps coming back to something simple: leave it at the door and slowly unpack it. Some items require encouragement, while others you allow to unpack themselves. Other things unpack together. Over time, with someone to reminisce with, allowing the story to be honored and put away for good. This is the only answer my heart can find – simple, true, and remarkable.
Ink Stained Soul... 