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My World is changed.
My Comfort Zone is breached.
This is not uncomfortable.
This is Painful.
Don’t tell me it can always be worse.
Don’t tell me that to grow, I have to ride out the hurt.
Because it costs me my peace.
It deprives me of my sleep.
It drains me of my energy.
It makes it hard to breathe.
I should be able to rest when my body demands it.
But my demons chase me even in my dreams.
I could remind myself that something worse could have happened to me –
But that means it’s okay to invalidate how I feel.
And how she feels.
And how he feels.
Just because the wounds are things that you cannot see –
My Home has been breached.
I am a little less of Me.
It is not uncomfortable.
It is Painful . . .



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The shit I wana say though.
As unclean and uncensored as it is
I wana let go.
But I shouldn’t
For all the conviction that I lack
I’m sure that I don’t have
The balls to back it all up though.
To own to my darkness
And all that makes me twisted
Without condoning
All the terrors of this human existence.
All of our cruelty
To our people and our living
How can I say
It’s okay
Without it being misinterpreted?
I wish I had a Heart of Steel somehow
To say it coz I mean it
And defend it
No backing down.
I wish I had it.
The wisdom.
The discernment.
To understand what I’m feeling.
I wish
I could articulate it
With no room for ambiguity
And no six sides to the fucking Story –
I wish –
Damn . It
I wish that I could say it.
Say every single thing
That fear told me
That I couldn’t . . .

my lonely . . .


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I am tired.
My Spirit has been broken.
I feel like I have risen
From a deep slumber
To find
All that matters to me has been stolen
My mind is blank from disuse
My Soul lays still within me
My ribcage is battered and bruised
My skin poorly perfused
Because my Heart has died inside of me
In its fight to get loose
When was it
That You decided
That I was better off all alone?
When was it
In Your design
That I should
Remain solitary from the time I woke?
Did he take his last
When I took my first breath?
Did you divert his path
Before he and I
Ever met?
I grow weary in the company of others
I grow tired of their stories and their games
I crave fully
The arms of another
The other half
The other one who is like me
I am tired
Of the desires
In my chest
And it seems that I will
See no fulfilment of them
And if indeed
I am to be alone
In order to
Be my best
For you
Then take these desires away
I beg . . .

My Misrepresentation . . .


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​I want to Write without wondering what everyone will say.

I want to Write without filtering my feelings for fear that someone, somewhere will take offense.

I want to Write with the truth in my Heart so that I bleed it out on the page.

I want to Write with a genuine belief that God loves me even with my mess.

Yes, I am aware that I’m a misrepresentation of that belief system.

And yes, I have felt the occasional attack of shame.

Because my thoughts are dark and my imagination is freaky and dirty and my Stories can get twisted and sexy and you may be disturbed by my Poetry –


I know that I cannot stay the same.

I know that – even if you cannot see it, He moves in me.

I know that whatever chaos is inside me, He always has His reasons for creating me this way.

I know that He never intended for me to be any living Soul but me.

I long to Write until I get it done.

I want to Write until I have said what He intended me to.

I will keep Writing what spills of me in self-expression and truth.

I will Write until I am no longer able to . . .

The Long Night


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I felt my voice rising
But it stalled in my throat
Being crushed by the weight
Of my Emotions before
They surface broke
When I realized where I was
And heard the Words before I spoke
And gathered myself
Before the Beast was
Woken –
That creature that lives inside
My very Soul
Staining it a dark color
That glitters like onyx and coal
With the consistency of black tar
On this darkened road
That seems to swallow the beam of light
That I try to cast on this creature
As it tries to unfold –
I cannot scream
But I want to
I try to Dream
But I fail to
I push forward with Hope
But that dies too
And the long night stretches on
And unmoved . . .

In The Movies


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The most powerful moments in movie scenes, I think, are the ones where there is no background music.
Where all that can be heard are the sounds of whatever is happening in the scene.
A Heart beating.
The use of Words and tones – speaking.
A car engine rumbling to life.
Fingers tapping a surface.
A dripping tap.
The wind rustling fallen leaves on the ground outside.
Footsteps coming toward you or walking away from you.
Footsteps walking away…

Most . . .


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I heard a voice cry –
Rise, girl and stretch!
Feel the knots be loosed
From your muscles
As they flex!
Too long
Have you been waiting –
First standing
At the door
Until your bones
Gave way
And then you were
Sprawling on the floor…
Hoping that he would
Respond promptly
To the urgency of
Your call.
Too long, I say
Now you can wait
No more!”
My body trembled
From the long disuse
And I leaned on the doorframe
To support me
I thought I heard movement
From within
But it was just the slow death
Of my own Dreaming
I picked my Heart right
Off the ground
Surprised to find that
It was still beating
And I realized then –
I realize it now
That I never truly needed
What I thought I did.
For a cold, hard second
I lingered there
But the voice was persistent
Within my Soul
It urged me away
Told me to leave
It said
“No longer, girl!
Now you must go!”
So I left all desires
And all Hopes
Of ever finding the
Safety of your hold
Because as I waited
And waited
For you to come
When I called
I realized
Not you
But I
Was The One I needed most –

the mistakes I make


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I hate berating myself for the mistakes I make
That anyone else could make on
Any given day
Like I was designed to be perfect
Like I should always get it right
Like I don’t deserve to grow and learn
Like I have no right to Life
To live
And experience what stories are about
The lessons that you learn
From the pain that you felt
When Life brought you down
Like I was not designed to be human
Like I was meant to be great all around –
But I wasn’t
And I’m not
And I can’t expect to go my
Whole Life
Having never fucked up
If anything
I crave the ability to rise above
My own drama
And accept my ability
I need to realize that
To grow and be stronger
I should rise
Rise again
No matter how many
Times I go under . . .

just a fan . . .


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My Love for Rock music started here.
It wasn’t something that happened to be playing in my father’s house.
It wasn’t something that I grew up with.
It was a sound that I stumbled across all on my own, while I was growing up and growing into myself.
This sound became a – a way of communication for me.
For all the Words that I dared not speak because I didn’t know how to.
Because this sound – it was raw and harsh on the ears and it disturbed the peace and stirred the senses.
And it awakened the things inside me that I was scared to confront.
That sometimes I feel sad.
That sometimes, I get dark, right in my Soul.
That sometimes, it gets so rough that being alone and staying down is all there seems to be to do.
That sometimes, it’s not about being heard, it’s about being listened to and understood.
I learned that it wasn’t about the sound, it was about the Words.
I learned about honesty and being true to yourself no matter how much that truth differed from society’s interpretation of it…

I learned that I wasn’t the only one who felt the way I felt.
I felt like I wasn’t alone.
Even if every single individual who knew this feeling was miles and miles away from me and no doubt didn’t know me from a bar of soap – I felt stronger because that meant that I wasn’t some defective human being.
I was just one of the many that made us all so different –

And now, that sound is changed forever.
That voice is…
I won’t hear it grow old.
I won’t ever get to hear it live.
And I’m just a fan.
I cannot begin to imagine how it must feel for those of you who were more…