What is life to cold hands and an empty heart?
A meaningless nothingness.
A reflection of despair.
No humanity seen.
No love.
No care.
Mere ashes of hope gone dry.
Mere tears from when one cried.
No measure of value for bodies.
None for the dead nor alive.
“Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” – Vivian Greene
And dance I did.
As my 46th bornday approaches on April 4th, I’ve been reflecting on my life’s journey. I’ve come a long way from being that eight year old kid who held back tears, swallowed her pain from abuse, and declared that I would grow up to be better than the examples that I was being shown at home.
I’ll always have a vivid memory of the Saturday that my father almost ended his life and mine. Even after he hurt me to my core on this day, I put hurt and fear aside. I wanted to live. I had the courage and the strength to survive.
In all of the heartache that I’ve been through, I’ve always pushed forward. And here I am today. I’m proud that I made the decision at age eight to live. I didn’t know what my life would be like as an adult, but I had dreams of a better life full of love. I can look in the mirror and smile, because some dreams do come true. I made it. Hearts can be emotionally battered and can bend. But, hearts can also feel love again. Hearts can also mend.
I’m gratefuI learned to dance so well in the rain.
When darkness burries the sun,
And the world is heavy upon soft shoulders,
Heavy is the load that is carried,
And despair is the emotion that is felt.
One can become blinded by the unknown,
And stricken down by fear.
Possibilities remain at a distance,
As if these are merely thoughts in the wind.
Unclarity has sunken in.
Then along comes the sun.
Love.
Love loves me.
Love believes in me.
Love’s light adorns me.
I hear Love’s voice, and I can see once again.
Love never let’s me suffer,
And Love never let’s me fail.
In my hour of sorrow, it’s Love’s faith, Love’s love, that prevails.
Faith is restored,
And one is guided by your light.
Onward to a righteous path,
I will know no wrong,
Because the Love you possess is oh, so right.
Don’t know Time’s timeline.
Don’t know where Time hides.
And Mercy is nowhere.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Death’s touch is not selective.
Hearts break and bleed,
Without restoration.
What’s the point,
When Heartache becomes the norm?
Photo Credit: myquietfire.com NYC
Never imagined I’d see yesterday through tomorrow’s eyes.
Hope now blinded once again by the truth,
Of an uncertainty in life that is all too real.
Living in a world full of broken hearts, promises, and paths.
Where is my sunshine and rainbow?
Where is my shovel to dig myself out of this hell of despair and fear?
Where is the train to Anyplace other than here?
Photo Credit: Pharoahe Monch
Train Departing Station In Chicago, On March 17, 2017
Thank You, Pharoahe Monch, For Sharing Your Beautiful Art, Whether It’s Music Or Photography.
“Every journey begins with a single step.” – Maya Angelou
As I approach my 45th Born Day on April 4th, as always, I’m stopping for a minute, to reflect upon my life’s journey. I’ve thought about my ups and downs. I’ve thought about my highs and lows. I’ve thought about my truth in my journey. I’ve traveled so far, and want to keep traveling upon the road that lies before me. My journey began with a single step towards possibilities, opportunities, and growth. A journey towards freedom and happiness. Just like a passenger who boards a train, my journey has taken me where I need to be.
I remember the complex days of my childhood, teen years, and even some of my adult years. I was that “lucky” kid, so others would say. I was that kid who got everything I ever asked for. I got everything I ever asked for, except a loving and caring family. I grew up in a home without true love shown, and I was always halfway happy at home. On the flipside of this, I was always happy at school. It was there that I felt safe. It was there that I felt loved. Now, as a teacher myself, I keep all of this in mind, when it comes to my classroom. My classroom might be the only place where a child feels love, and school might be the only place where a child feels safe. I make it known to my students that I care, and that I love.
I survived years of abuse from family, which lasted well into my adult years. I finally had the courage to walk away from all of the hurt and dysfunction. I had reached my breaking point. As I sat in my apartment one afternoon and sobbed uncontrollably at the fact that ‘loved ones’ can treat me so bad, I realized that I must take care of my own mental health, and I must ensure my own happiness. After years of trying to love away the pain and fix what was broken, I just became tired. Tired of feeling guilty for wanting to walk away and stay away. Tired of trying to understand. Tired of trying. Tired of hiding. Tired of smiling on the outside, when I didn’t always want to. It’s never been easy living on the other side of love. But the cold world that I lived in never made me bitter. I just kept hoping and wishing that I would be free one day. Free to be me. Free to feel joy. Free to express and receive unconditional love. My heart is in a good place within me now, and has been for quite some time now. I know what love is, by the positive examples of it that I saw elsewhere. And from the poor examples that I was shown, I certainly know what love is not. If I should ever fall in love, my heart’s love will be truly genuine and free flowing.
As life is a journey full of lessons learned and lessons taught, I look back at the trials in my life and praise God that I grew up to become the woman that I am today. In all of my strength, I can stand proud in the mirror and love the person that I see each day. My life is a tale of overcoming obstacles, and not becoming another statistic. My story is not unique. Nor is it uncommon. But this story is mine. It will always be a part of who I am.
No, it wasn’t easy living on the other side of love, but once I knocked down the wall of obstruction, I found out how sweet love and freedom could be. And they taste sweeter each and everyday. I welcome 45 with open arms.
My final message on my site before 2016 comes to an end was a post titled, ‘Never Surrender Your Dreams.’ I stated that I want 2017 to be a year of possibilities, opportunities, and growth. It seems like the brutal nature of 2016 is going to rear its ugly head until the very end. Tonight, I asked where the fuck did humanity go? I had to rewind and catch myself and my feelings. I had to remind myself of my purpose in life. Tonight, I had to remind myself that I can’t let hope and dreams slip away, and that I shall press forward. I have to press forward. The following quote by Harriet Tubman served as a reminder for me tonight.
“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.”
– Harriet Tubman
What do you do when your heart dries out?
When there’s no blood left to shed?
When the beauty of bodies float away like dust?
When all you can feel is despair?
So many days and nights have my heart cried out,
To hollow ears who hear me not.
Hollow ears don’t hear my screams in the night.
Hollow ears know not my soul’s twists and turns.
And blind eyes don’t see my bloodshed,
When murderous hands perform the devil’s deeds.
So, what do you do when your heart cries out?
When there’s no one who seems to care?
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Aren't songs of grief lullabies to the lost?
La poesía es la casa del ser.
as opposed to a “not thinking chitalia”
A storyteller with a poetic heart
The Poetry of Emotion
Seeking Solace in the Horizon & Beyond
FOR A NEW TOMORROW
My Quiet Fire In NYC 