Sitting near holding my tears
Telling myself there’s not a thing I should fear
Wishing I could kick my own ass into gear
“Just move” I whisper to myself
Spiraling up and down and all around
Take a breath *sigh.. oh, that helped
Breath in breath out
What was I doing again
Tears hot and heavy still in the corners of my eyes
What just happened
How fast the sadness and confusion comes and goes
A piece here
A piece there
My heart is aching
My spirit misplaced
Work has yet to be started
Tired and exhausted
Trying to keep steady with the pace
Cold sweat my thoughts do cause
When did I pause
To be able and willing
Forgetting …….. what was I doing again
Wipe the tears
Sit up straight
Just get through the day
Too many words
Placing themselves within
For when to begin
A gnawing constant
That screams and shouts
Please Lord God ….
Keep my heart.
Maybe I might just fall apart.
Thursday … worst day ever or so it seems to play out as. It’s a day where no matter how hard I try to wake the children they just grumble instead. It’s the type of day that seems to steal all my left shoes, coffee creamer was placed in the fridge only to be empty, there are bagels but dagnabit where’s the smear 🤦🏽♀️.
It’s the little things that tend to build up all week and then ….😩”F*ck, it’s Thursday”. Lol
The one thing I can say for sure is: “Aint nothing or no one gonna steal my joy”! So to you Thursday , have a glorious day, but next week could you please be a tad kinder and maybe try a little gentleness with your approach.
Thank you ever so much ,
Today I am pondering over how my thinking may hinder others because of how abstract my thoughts are. Is this a good or bad thing to creatively force others to question their reasoning. Curiosity would be one word to define me. I question and rework mostly everything I see. I calculate and truly think about why I am doing something when it’s within the routine of my life. I notice signs everywhere….From the colors that are worn by others, the song playing on the radio, the randomness, to what line in the grocery store I happened my way into. In the most simple of ways I find the answers to why. Simply by asking “why”. These two YouTube videos which I found this past weekend made me feel as if maybe, just Maybe….I am on to something big with how I have been able to connect my memories and meld them with memories that are like a machines. hmmmm…..but how to write…. TO BE CONTINUED….!
“Know I choose the beauty of the word “why”…it can jump into our imaginations and give the most delightful visions of the very definition of beautiful (Be-U-fruitful).“~sweetlyfieresoul
Sometimes it feels as if I am a figurine that is kept on the shelf or still in its box for fear of being broken or damaged.
When I was a child my grandma would send me christmas presents like the Holiday collectors Barbie and Cabbage Patch Kids. My mom wouldn’t let me play with them because she knew they were expensive. So she would pack them away in her hope chest.
After much pleading and many years later she finally allowed me to have them. Of course they got dirty and a little roughed up, but they brought so much joy because they were a gift meant for only me. They filled my time with imagination which made me smile.
The Gifts I have been given that reside deep with in are feeling the same way. We are all given something special that was meant for only us to cultivate and grow into something that we then spread to the world in service. In doing this we then share our gift to the world.
Which is our way of saying Thank You to God. ~sweetlyfiercesoul
Twilight was misty and cold in California that night as I stood outside my father’s house. I was 16 holding only a small brown leather purse with a few dollars. I Stared at the unlit door, knowing once again I had disappointed my family. I thought about what would happen once I walked in late for curfew once more.
My step mother would yell and a call would be made to what ever part of the world my father happen to be for his job. I could imagine the look on their faces; disappointment and Anger. But it was the faces of my younger half sisters that caused me to delay walking in.
Knowing they would hear the fighting and be awoken from their dreams. That me, their bigger sister had been the cause of their life turning upside down for the past 8 months since I moved in.
Right then and there I decided to walk away. Where would I go?
My grandmother lived just across the Street yet I had once already been dragged from her house. Being told my home was through that unlit door.
My mother and step father 3000 miles away. What was I doing?
In my twisted teenage mind, I thought I was saving them. Saving them from myself. The only way I knew to protect their hearts was to remove the problem, which was me.
So into the night I walked without saying goodbye, without looking back.
My heart-broken for the house light that wasn’t lit.
If they only knew just how much that light would have meant to me.
Maybe. Just maybe I wouldn’t have followed the street lights that promised a home.