Vulnerability On Display

This gift of written expression,
carefully fueled by
the pain, the hurt, and the struggles
of the past and the present.
As well as, the laughter and the joys
I often forget to include.

I may have a hard time
verbally getting my words out
but I can certainly write
without stumbling or mumbling.
Vulnerability on display.

My past battles has prepared me
for my present victory.

Smell The Flowers

We are alive and well
yet we don’t actually live.
We’re just merely existing
with our pre-planned routines
and that’s what we call living.

We walk right past
the flowers most days
without actually realizing
what life is all about.
It’s not just the flowers
that we need to pick up, smell, and appreciate.

Silencing The Other Voice

My mind is plagued
by the bold, outspoken, courageous me,
that’s all I can see.

I want so bad to overcome
that something in me
begins to fight with the sword
and I know without a doubt
it’s just a matter of time and discipline
that will determine my outcome

but then something else (another voice) in me
will try to convince me
that nothing I do
will ever make a difference
in how things have worked out,

despite my best efforts,
the burning desire
will end up fading
into the background
and I’ll have to build up
the momentum again to fight.

Carriers

It was their job to get me to the next stop.
And for that selfless act, I am very grateful.

What I realize now is everything else
after that move was up to me.

The hurt,
the pain,
the brokenness
I endured was all
a part of the package deal.
It was only meant to last for a season.
What I didn’t realize at the time
was that God wouldn’t have allowed any of the madness
if He didn’t know I could handle
the stress,
the trauma,
and the sadness.

I used to live like I deserved
the kitchen sink being thrown at me
and I’d use the hurt to feed the pain
like a migraine craving sugar,
carelessly thinking I was doing myself a favor
by burying my purpose in the ground
when I couldn’t even see the bigger picture.

After Death

Memories on replay.
Frozen faces.
Unanswered questions.
Their lives gone.
Your life in perspective.

An endless flow of tears.
You won’t forget their smiles.
They won’t be forgotten.

You remember to just breathe
while you still have
the breath within you.
Life doesn’t seem so complicated now.

R. I. P. Aunt Paula

Intimidation

I’m strong and confident in my mind,
can’t nothing or nobody break me.
But when I open my mouth,
my words come tumbling out
and my voice

breaks,
cracks,
shakes,
and bleeds

fear

producing something totally different
than what I had originally planned
to say or do.

Hidden Charges

Some questions come with hidden charges.
If you step outside of the box,
that’s considered uncharted territory and is a no-no.
Some people want you to stay in line and be a good little slave.
They’ll tell you pretty little responses or use nasty little daggers
wrapped up neatly with a bow and tie just to keep you silent.
Whether you stay mute or not, it’s up to you.
Your voice, no one should tell you how to use.

The Example

I am the example
I use to push my children
to stand up and make a difference.

I use my failures and successes
to encourage them to aim high.

All of the lessons I try to instill in them,
I make sure those same lessons are instilled in me too;
I need them to see that I am more than my words.

The Sum of My (Past) Depression

A burden was placed on my shoulders as a child.
I carried the “weight of the world” like it was my own.
Often times, I wore it like a badge of honor.
I grew up feeling sorry for myself.
I thought I was living in hell
so I rehearsed the pain over and over again
until I became that horrible pain,
it hurt so bad I wanted to end my life a thousand times and one.
I cried so much and so often
now I don’t even feel the need to cry
even if the tears are on the verge of falling down
even if my life depended on it,
the water wells have dried up.

That 12-year-old Girl

Reminding that 12-year-old little girl
that what she went through
prepared her for her testimony.
Can’t nobody tell her story
better than she can.
It was uniquely designed
to bring her to her destination.
This is her story
and this is how it goes.

The Microwave Remedy

Ears itch,
they get scratched
and flees fall off
as they are spoken.

Words pitched up like tents,
those empty pretty little words,
tied up with a cute, neat bow,
they hold no merit.

Instant nonsense.
Microwaved gratification.
Unweighed and sealed with love.