Category Archives: pain

The Spirits in a Bottle

Alcohol, liquor, spirits, drinking is a truth serum. Suddenly things your mind wouldn’t so free release bubbles at the tips of tongue. Liquid courage I have heard it called it called. The emotions kept at bay stifled behind pain, hidden with words unspoken.
As the sips become gulps all burning away that wall to emotions laced in resentment I watch you become another person. It hurts to know what I already did. I close my eyes and I seek God to protect me from the attacks of days gone, of mistakes once again you revisit. My tears become the forgiveness I fight daily to maintain but it hurts… it buries what I want to build. Want to snatch the drink from your hands, want to take your words… dilute them with love blend them with sweet coffee beans add sugar… have them settle into your belly warm you so you can really digest a truth of the present and I have done many things, yet at this point change became my intoxicant, my drink. My hit.
I had to and n i w here I am another day… another drunk tirade of faithless abandon and words that scare me to my core. The truth is cold pushing me to the land of the lepers. A sickness has become the door that opens to find myself the victim of your selflessness. The more glasses you feel the more you vomit these moments that have caused me these crippling experiences…. bring me back to days… I work daily to never repeat. Change is hard. I want to wrap my arms around myself. But I won’t, instead I say in the tone I can best muster, edge it’s ring. Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t deserve that… then a bomb hits my ocean. An massive waves draws sobs from the part f me only God can touch and I met honesty pour from my list. Its not for me… I have o worry. I’m scared but God has me… you, have said,,, it’s all because your  sick that changes me helping. That buries me….. I feel the sand block as airways. No way to UN hear a love un requited. A mothers love, the live that shaped me.. tears pour over cheeks and acceptance settles behind now dim eyes. From here where do I go

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July 20, 2014 · 11:08 am

The life of dealing

How I deal with pain
Is as simple as accepting what’s there….
Life is not fair
Never thought it would be
I just do me
No normality in my stance
A strange duality my brand
I write
I love
I pray to God….. he keeps me above
Submitting to negativity
I hold my friend’s hand
I listen
I speak
I left behind choices of destruction
Building a new infrastructure
The faction is here
I been queer
Don’t live in fear
Take it by faith, hold my on weight
My intuition to my choices led by instincts
Seek to love like God.. .through turmoil and struggle
Believe in treating others as I wish to be treated myself
Keep my bullshit on a shelf
Say what I feel as well as mean
Evaluating the scene
Before I redeem any points to be earned
I apply the lessons I learned
I deal with my version of real
I deal with the emotional side of things
My heart brings a song
And for so long I denied my intrinsic musicality
Those days are gone
The time is now
My moment to wow the world
To be the woman God intends for me
Gotten me this far
I know he won’t leave me today
Another life game that’s must be play
The things I say they have power
Be kind,be humble
Be honest in truth
Take the lessons and apply them when they are most needed
In the past that way has succeeded
In the route to right
So here I am tonight on how I deal…
By being true to what  I feel

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Filed under a rant of love, change, Emotion, life, pain, personal understanding, writing

Take My Spirit: You Can’t

I hear the footsteps of your pain, muddy with resentment, discontentment
A heart untouched by kind words,untouched by appreciation for what you give
The rain outside of your windows eternally fall unable to be sheltered from the picture you have painted to the world that fails to provide you the sunshine you need to grow and forgive
I hear them loudly in your tone
In your hurtful words
Your shield from the arms I open to protect you from  that downpour
Inhale my love, change your picture
Together we can clean your shoes
Clean away the dirty toils beneath your sole(soul).
Here we can change the forecast of our tomorrow
On our knees we can pray
I will stay within your grasp
Won’t leave you alone
Will set a new tone
In my willingness to be your umbrella in the storm
I feel your core
Feel the beauty you have lost
Just living in that rain
The insurmountable pain
Take my hand
I demand the light to shine within our time
Here we will endure bad, make a path to fine and arrive in the brightness of the sun
Vulnerabilities left with fear
Its time I share with you my faith
Its were my smile arrives
Its wear my pain is released
Its why my shoes are clean
Why the tears always end in a rainbow
Don’t live in the thunder, in that hurricane
Within is how we rebuild
Where we must heal….

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Filed under a rant of love, Choices, Emotion, life, pain, preception, relationships, religion, The World

We Made Our Last Memories

Last Night We created our last memories. The last time I would listen to your voice, say your name, feel your intense depth of understanding. While you spoke I saw the Love you are feeling, love for any other. Entitled to happiness, I must release you. I must free myself from the connection We share. Heard each Word , each detail of passionate pain they Have caused you. As you left My World, you have no idea that over the next several weeks I will purge myself on the intoxicating admiration that mesmerizes my truth. This love I feel knows that without this day it would not survive you. It will posion My belief, corrupt the reflection My eyes see. I know I Said I would never leave. I intended to live in this thing We do share. In an instant My truth became doubt. In your words, your revelation falling from lips that have rarely touched My own revealed that your Love rejects the explanation of Love I Have for you. You Said.she held you down, Stayed at your side When no allusions were displayed in your situation. Held you, kept you. You deny the power you give These things you deny you feel to your heart. Beaten, broken and scarred you nurse the wounds of her past. You claim her meaning to you. Freely you set me free.  My love was always here. Always loyal and true…. But never enough to be in your heart, the way they all Have auditioned to be.  The best friend you Have I now see… I am the place your soul and mind meet, yet you never allowed your heart to know me. Each breath taken to reveal the trails of your life, became the ammunition to free this heart enslaved. Love is still burning inside for you, but I dont Want to stay. I cant stay, must reduce the lifetime We invested in. Now Just a season. Will take all that has been given By God between us. Maybe our futures will intersect, better, and in Sync for whatever We could be. Its time I set you free, give My heart a.chance to be loved. I Want the best for you. From afar I will see it, . Wish I could be braver,less selfish.

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Filed under a rant of love, change, love, meaning, pain, personal understanding, relationships, self love, unrequited love, Written Emotion

Last Night We created our last memories. The last time I would listen to your voice, say your name, feel your intense depth of understanding. While you spoke I saw the Love you are feeling, love for any other. Entitled to happiness, I must release you. I must free myself from the connection We share. Heard each Word , each detail of passionate pain they Have caused you. As you left My World, you have no idea that over the next several weeks I will purge myself on the intoxicating admiration that mesmerizes my truth. This love I feel knows that without this day it would not survive you. It will posion My belief, corrupt the reflection My eyes see. I know I Said I would never leave. I intended to live in this thing We do share. In an instant My truth became doubt. In your words, your revelation falling from lips that have rarely touched My own revealed that your Love rejects the explanation of Love I Have for you. You Said.she held you down, Stayed at your side When no allusions were displayed in your situation. Held you, kept you. You deny the power you give These things you deny you feel to your heart. Beaten, broken and scarred you nurse the wounds of her past. You claim her meaning to you. Freely you set me free.  My love was always here. Always loyal and true…. But never enough to be in your heart, the way they all Have auditioned to be.  The best friend you Have I now see… I am the place your soul and mind meet, yet you never allowed your heart to know me. Each breath taken to reveal the trails of your life, became the ammunition to free this heart enslaved. Love is still burning inside for you, but I dont Want to stay. I cant stay, must reduce the lifetime We invested in. Now Just a season. Will take all that has been given By God between us. Maybe our futures will intersect, better, and in Sync for whatever We could be. Its time I set you free, give My heart a.chance to be loved. I Want the best for you. From afar I will see it, . Wish I could be braver,less selfish.

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Filed under a rant of love, change, love, meaning, pain, personal understanding, relationships, self love, unrequited love, Written Emotion

The Arriving Man

As a woman I live in an understanding of my emotional culture. With each documented moment I live binding a library of books of my experiences. Something I find on my journey are moments of interaction with men in my community some of them from homes broken and others from families assembled by time and others in the traditional make up. The black man has been the consequence of negativity and forlorn thought. The black man is an elusive entity of strength and as the community of my peers evolve from young men to men it’s most powerful era I look at the elegance of transistion and the opposition of being a  legacy of decisions that maybe the men before them took. I am a woman and I like other little black girls were left to become women without the presence of a man in the home. Yet as God provides me the gift of  his love he has shown me the new understanding of the black man who has shed the heavy coat of prejudice and the cotton of a too hot life when trying to get  to a moderately comfortable temperature in there atmosphere of being the man on the outside of privilege. These arriving men whom I have named arriving because through the storms of history and disrespect and the lack of support These men truly need they still come through those foggy moments hoping and trying their best. They even arrive to the storms of us loud talking, strong willed, fatherless and fathered mess of understanding women.. Yet as a woman sometimes loving that man who needs so much love is hard but see him as arriving.. Why? Today I hear more men say… I have full custody of my baby… insert son and alot more in my world insert daughter. They breathe for these children, facing the disappointment of being not enough or not having enough in the dank aftermath of heated summers of no lemonade stands and no baseball games on shoulders of that elder likeness and those of us who live amongst the on the streets of father non-applicable to me… cuz I don’t know my daddy we know the pain of being apart of a single parent home and feel the strain of traits not owned by mommy. We are the generation of change and we are changing our outlook and we are fighting loudly with  the access of technology,,,, I am proud of us regardless of these colored skin suits. And I know in the colonies of different hues lives homes broken and children hearts broken by the choices of those who are our key to lifetimes of lifelines that teach us how we think, and live and celebrate life.

SO it’s for the man arriving in your world as well, those colored life coffee, deep and brown those with layered choices with skin so bright and illuminating, those have culture built in this soil, their heritage with their land stolen…  so do not be left out. Yet my fondness for these men made so much like me with deep brown skin, shadowed eyes and hearts of solid beaming gold left hidden with cavities of teflon. My little boys who have taken the stereotypes and made them enterprises, took the grid irons and concrete courts from games to headlines and fame. Those growing boys turned men with need to fight and survive instead of drive and arrive are still beating down the hot block with hearts that want to be home, want to know those kids even when they laid down to be incarcerated by women who still have the learned lesson that men leave… don’t believe, don’t grieve, left to live with pain than to have it eased. SO many days they sit with breaths caught in chest hoping to slang enough, dunk enough, take enough to be the present father and not just the donor who fertilized a egg with his seed.

Yes I want you to be the best man you can be, yet I also see the struggle and desire to aid you in knowing your worth and those small things also mean something. The desire, the attempt, the faith, the hope, the strength and the experience you both show, and provide bleed your love. As women we can nurture those strengths. Your power is in the love you feel, the meal you cook to quell the hunger, the sex you indulge in to show him the importance and need to not just your heart but your body.  The love they so seldom vocalize but will always show in their resounding baritone as they ask where we have been, if the oil has been checked, how they will walk on the outside, and do their best to apply what they have never learned but know in their hearts is right. Just the fight to live will show how much many desire to not be the stagnant typed without the stereo for its never displayed how much it hurts to have to say, not applicable and does not apply when it comes to the language we can’t identify whether it be fatherly or motherly love. This community of strength taught to survive… we need to learn how to thrive, be our own resource of love… Move away from the belief that we must be the dog that dined on the dog of circumstance. Must unite if you want to fight and win.

A generation passed full of daddy’s rolling by home home to collect stones they were made to believed were jewels…NO HOME IS WITHOUT IT”S STRUGGLE… and no parent meant to create and mold life alone. These men are a special breed, descendents of man made Achilles heels, robbed of identity, used as common artillery, bred to do the work of building empires of which they could not call home and while slavery had died on the dark hot tar we call pavement… it has already been paved and if not actively fought will remain submerged in hate.

No this is not about slavery for we are each free.  wanting to make a loud noise in the sake of revolution to be another block of words strung together about being the victim looking on to the inside with too much fear, too much pride and just enough anger to be forced to grow. I am a woman among many women with matching skin id’s and similar history, The women who love these black men, lets us the be their place of  love make his house his home so he leave behind his spot, his crib , make our homes kingdoms. Not with things but with those jewels of love… we call them support, trust, forgiveness, loyalty, kindness, tolerance and self control. Let us use our action of physical love with fortitude and and be the woman who sees his heart and chooses it above all. Yes we women have pains and hurts, yet me make the time whether right or wrong to sing our song, some constant singing his wrongs. Each replay comes with a fine of his worth, and time for he sees your pain and despite what all continue to think… a man in love with a woman in love with him… is not afraid to speak freely when she wears her priceless jewels daily and shows him the ultimate jewel is him.

… why do you think these men stay with you even when love didn’t build that home. Even as your belittle his masculinity instead of just telling him your pain. Why do you think they are not so quick to divulge in (sorry about my language) sharing the true power of his magic wand , his sword you’re so quick to use in a scheme to shut you down.. ONce it’s been offered you no longer hold the cards… he already  has part of your heart. In no way am I taking away  the power of a woman, a black woman who might look something like me…

I know your pain, I know your need… and part of our want is based on that man you desire… so open your eyes and see him arriving and love him gently. Promote his power in your world, Provide a safe place for his emotional vulnerability so he may use it has the secret weapons to slay his enemies and practice love in your words, needs, and actions… Show him that even know love has its flaws and you certainly don’t take lies, abuse, or negativity. Just do it the way love would.

For the world in which he lives and struggles to be seen as a equal… befriend him… he is a man just as you… regardless of the clothes he wears, his choice of song, his difference in opinion. He is like you really the only difference is his flavor. Regardless he is arriving, from shallow graves of mis conception, perception , and infectious outbreaks of humanity and their ignorant thinking.

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Filed under a rant of love, change, desire, Emotion, evolution, motivation, opportunity, pain, Positivity, preception, relationships

Hold Me Hostage

What in the world was I thinking? So many say I was lost in my own dream, a fantasy of my own understanding and I think they should just stop talking about what I was… not dreaming or thinking but feeling. I am tired of living in this world’s delivery of what ideas should be. The truth is ideas are unique. Just as each thought that we allow to enter our cortex and analogy. Yet alot of days we forget that feeling is only the first step. We feel it yet, do we accept that we were able to feel anything before it came, or is that something can not be defined and so immediately denied. I want to kick and yell, screaming for my individuality. Just because you can’t see the hue of your decisions left to the days consequences. What makes you believe that I can’t.

Yet it allows me to arrive again at my next thought. I am not ashamed of the consequences or even the lessons. what I am most ashamed of is that I kept not believing but receiving. For the belief was the relief. I had been rescued. The most desired pain of all is the pain of love that lives in the same joy of love as well. The vulnerability of emotionally romantic relationships is one of the most dangerous game that I have experienced. I am tired of running in circles and so now I begun to evaluate the activity…. I love unconditionally therefore your choices are your choices and I do not change based on the reciprocation of my actions in showing my love and not just saying it. The actions you take to show how you feel whether the love is the same or not is up to you. If I see that you are the most important of people in your world to the extinct of my pain, then what do I do? Where do I apply the difference in a way that leaves no unsatisfied emotions for myself.
I can not expect the same of those around me, however I have the power to hold myself hostage from any love crimes, where me as the victim finds no resolution in at least your words.

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Filed under a rant of love, crime, pain, personal understanding