Poetry On A Roll

I took myself away to heal.
All communication seized.
I didn’t need the daily reminders
of why I was never good enough
for them or how I should’ve
handled things differently
then perhaps I would’ve
had a happier ending.
I needed to mute those voices
on the other line telling me
to “get over it” when no one was there
to protect me from the slaughterhouse.

I needed to be alone with myself.
To find my voice.
To remind myself to live.
I didn’t need to prove or compare
myself to anyone to feel hopeful.

Time and effort
takes time and effort.
Everyone makes time
and put in the effort
for those who matters most to them.
It’s a choice we all make,
whether we acknowledge it
to be true or not;
the truth is in our actions.

I’ve been busy,
putting my life back together

Trying to find some solid ground
where I can feel safe.

My home was my jail cell.
I was sentenced to life

for a crime
I did not commit.

They tried so hard to imprison my mind.
I fought even harder for my freedom.

I think I turned out okay.
God had different plans for my life

greater than all of our expectations.
My story didn’t end at that kitchen table.

No surprises there
where God is concerned.
He’s already been “there” before;
He knows every turn and every
intricate detail of any route
you could possibly take.
Don’t worry about anything.
All of your needs are already
taken care of.
I try to remind myself
of that every day now.

I fight those demons every day
that tells me “I’ll never be
good enough”.
I can’t let them win
no matter how scared I feel.
I know I’m here for a purpose
greater than my small mind
can comprehend.
I keep fighting, I just don’t
have what it takes to surrender.

I fight the urge
to not feel lonely and torn up inside
sometimes, it hurts
more than I think I can bear, mostly I
keep myself too busy to notice
what I don’t have as I work
on what I do have and can
see every day.

Though I felt weak in my eyes,
my mentality remained strong.
In their eyes,
I looked weak and timid.
They could not puncture
my mentality with their negativity.

What I went through.
I went through alone.
You weren’t there.
Yes, you probably
would’ve handled it differently,
who knows if you were there?
No mother.
No father.
An innocent child vs. wolves in sheep’s clothing.

And then all of a sudden
I’m not feeling like myself.
I can’t eat.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t think.
I can’t talk.
Anxiety is one point ahead.

I’m having a hard time shaking it off
… I’m being weighed down
by this dark force that’s unexplainable.
It’s that crippling feeling
I know all too well.

That nudge that won’t go away.
Might as well just do it.
That thing you do so well,
no one else can duplicate
your unique spin.
It’s your gift; your passion;
you love it so much
no amount of money
can satisfy your love.

Revisiting the past
for longer than 5 minutes
is therapy enough.
I try to just grab
what I need and go.