To steal all that was pure and innocent Before she had the chance to experience All the changing shapes of her body The first kiss, crush, giddiness, and her exploding sexuality Making her feel dirty and ashamed Carrying secrets that did not belong to her Not yet a woman, barely a girl, and merely a child Undressed and exposed A child who would grow up and cower by the touch
Kindness and self-confidence become the noose around my neck in a shallow world filled with self-absorbed, self-obsessed, fear-fueled desperate “look at me” cries for attentionGuiltyI try not to dwell on the fake realities, about you and him and her in their filtered out of focus world, as redundant images scroll past my screenAnd an overwhelming, weight bearing, heart heavy sadness floods my brain connecting bones and boiling bloodSocial media may
Feminine Divine Dear God, I haven’t been talking to you much. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I lost my faith for a long while. I lost myself, too. I forgot I was your perfect creation. I forgot the privilege it is to be female. I forgot I was able to create life, to make another human. Wow, what a miracle and awesome gift you gave this body of mine.
A DESCENT AND ASCENT INTO MADNESS A decade ago I made a commitment to myself and a promise if I could write my deepest, darkest truths, fears, and wildest dreams on the page, I might have a shot at surviving the depths of hell I was living. THE RED BENCH essentially became a one-hundred-plus-page creative exploration, and the purest stream of consciousness, and the most essential tool in my survival
A label cannot define the sublime essence of youIt means little if not nothing when you’re navigating the unique journey exclusive to you Sensitive sweet smart kind inquisitiveThose are not labels but words with depth and meaning All the ways you’re seen thus farYouth is a magical mystical time and a strange place to find your footingPlease don’t believe the world is so shallow so small it can define youBut it will
Please do not underestimate the fragile girl who has been broken. The grown woman climbs barbed wire fences unapologetic, her jagged and cut limbs battle cries that honor the scars. Bleeding profusely shrugging off the pain, she is awake and determined. The girl is immune to the swirling, incessant noise hovering overhead. Simply choosing to embrace the beautiful and worst kinds of misery. Nah, man she’s better than wasted breath.
I often wonder if I have enough faith to navigate my way in the world. I’m pretty sure I don’t. It’s the stubbornness that keeps me here, keeps me hurtling forward, running too fast to ever actually slow down. To just be. I’m a runner, I get that. I’m not in denial, pretending to be a different me. Have you ever stepped foot inside a temple of worship, and truly
What matters in these troubled times is that you look up and out and around and make something beautiful. Spill your guts, break your heart and then dig a little deeper. Jump into love. Inside the blues, inside the scary, safe nurturing walls of purple rain, you’ll find a Prince’s truth. It ain’t always pretty, but it’s always relatable. We are all tragic, wonderfully broken pieces, with smashed hearts and
As I sat across from my mother and really looked at her face and tiny frame, I saw her age, frailty and worry lines for the first time. Her life has not been easy. It has been fucking brutal. She has endured and cared for too many loved ones suffering from mental illness. Every decade of her life has been spent caring for a loved one, someone other than herself.
Do not believe for one second that you cannot make a difference. Do not shrink or cower in the face of adversity, ugliness, grifters, liars, abusers and rednecks. Evil does not dwell in the homes of well-meaning, hard working, honest folk. It hides inside the vaults of secrecy, power, greed and shame. Concrete walls smeared in blood and envy. Integrity still means something. Morality still means something. Patience and understanding