I understand…

I understand…

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I understand, trust me I do.
She didn’t just hurt you bad,
she took the one thing you finally had,
the courage to hand over-
your heart,
and she thwarted it.

I understand,
she swept the meaning of trust,
under the rug,
and your marriage,
was nothing-
more than a sham.

I understand
That when she gets mad,
she gets MAD;
and a man should not lay a hand,
on a woman.
And you felt the brute end of a
woman’s fury,
and I understand that,
most people,
Cannot grasp it-
Cause- you are a man.

I understand you’ve been hurt,
and I understand you are in pain,
I might not really understand the,
emotions you’ve been through,
but I do feel them- when you say it.

Look. Here. Now.
You’ve got me,
We’ve got our lives,
We’ve got a Lord to worship-
at the first string of light;
A kid who calls you daddy,
And sees you as his Knight;
And I know you do not see it,
So I need you to Understand;

I need you to not despair,
In the mercy of your Lord,
He got you out of the darkness،
Bestowed you, a whole new life;
I need you to understand,
We’ll make it- Cause baby steps;
Just do not give up on yourself.

When someone says I love you-

When someone says I love you-

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He told her rhyming,
Was a thing of the past;
So she took up free verses,
To appeal to his good side;

He fed her sweet words,
And she chewed on with pride;
For when someone says I love you,
They can do you know harm.

He called her his sun,
For she lit up his life;
And failed to see the effect,
of his storm on her light;

When his fist miss the wall,
Colliding with her;
He would bandage them in kisses,
One too many a time.

She bloomed off his words,
Blindsided to the fact,
She had the sunlight and the oxygen,
All within her- to thrive.

He drained her of passion,
Imprinting her with scars;
Left her lying in a pool,
Of her blood and his lies.

Like a bee after honey,
He comes back around;
But an encounter with death
At his hand, was the last.

Now she’s picked up her pen,
And writes poetry in rhymes;
about the man who stole her light,
taught her to thrive in the dark;

Flash Fiction: Survived

Flash Fiction: Survived

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Sleep was supposed to be an escape for the soul, but not for Anita. Not after March 25th, the night she found herself victim to an eccentric looking man with green eyes who although immune to emotions, was a master of facade; a man who’d cut short the lives of seven innocent girls before her… She should have been number eight.

Anita had tried everything, therapy, meditation, you name it but still, each time she shut her eyes, the memories come gushing in blurry flashbacks with only one clear cut frame amidst the chaos- A red chandelier. Shutting her eyes, took her back to that moment, when she’d stare at the chandelier, the only thing with color in her hunter’s den, trying to gate the pain and fear off.

But she’d survived then and would survive facing him in court the next day, with or without sleep on her side. She was ready.


Word count: 160. The above story is in response to a Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy. Thank you @TJ Paris for this week’s picture. 

Sorry’s not Enough-

Sorry’s not Enough-

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I used to think all one had to say was “sorry” when I was wronged.
Sorry, I broke your toy.
Sorry, I stole your note.
Sorry, I yelled at you
Sorry, I grabbed you grimly
Sorry, sorry, sorry… And all would be well in the world.

I didn’t realize, “Sorry” was not a broken record to replayed over and over. It was a testament, a promise saying, “I feel awful for doing that to you and even though I can’t promise I won’t do it again, I vow to do everything within my power to avoid doing it”.
“Sorry”, wasn’t simply accepting you did wrong, it was supposed to mean you were willing to change as well.

It took you saying-
Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you” over and over like a broken record for the reality of it to click on me. You weren’t sorry. You never were. For you, “Sorry” was nothing more than a five letter word to be stringed at the end of every sentence.

I am Sorry, it took so long for me to realize this.
                           -Sincerely, someone who values the meaning of the word.

C- Cruel to be kind

C- Cruel to be kind

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She was taught as a kid,
It was all in good spirit,
When harsh words were hurled at her.

So she grew up thinking,
Maybe love was hidden,
Behind hurtful remarks.

She was taught as a teen,
Man is cruel to be kind,
When the bullies would get physical.

So she married a man,
Who displayed love through fist,
Blaming every mistake on her.

She was taught as a kid,
How to smile through the pain,
That it’d only make her braver.

So she grinned and faked it,
Hid her scars and hurting,
Believing it would make her a brave heart.

Until one sullen morning,
Her weak heart gave away-
She was gone before medics arrived.

They labeled her death- sudden;
Unaware she’d been wilting,
Since the first ever lesson she’d had.

the above image is courtesy of The odyssey. This is a scheduled post, I am away at the moment, hoping to be back soon. 🙂

And She Ran-

And She Ran-

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Raised with the notion to never,
Get burned by the same flame twice;
So she ran and sought for cover,
While the moon was on her side;
But the night doesn’t last forever,
And he found her- claimed “I love you”;
Five grim years had thought her better,
She said, “apparently your fists do too”.

The hovering clouds dissipated,
Golden rays streamed right through;
There was a time she’d have trusted,
The honey which from his tongue drooled;
But she’s been raised with the notion,
Mama didn’t raise no fool;
So she ran and sought for cover,
From the one she once loved true;
Sweet words were magic until
They get bruised onto you.

I Trusted you-

I Trusted you-

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The truth is- it’s not love that screwed me over; a repressed memory which surfaced turning my life upside down; or a cry for help gone unanswered… It was just one thing, trusting you.

Trust me, you’ll say. Each time a doubt crept in me, you’d echo it. Each time my insides churned at your actions, you’d utter those two words.

Trust me… and I trusted you. More than my self, more than my gut instinct. Over any friend, family, outsider, I trusted you! How could I not. You put a ring on my finger and a baby in my womb. How could I not trust the one I considered half of me, “my better half”, we were starting a family together- I trusted you.

I should have trusted the way your eyes wandered off each time we were out together; I should have trusted the way your nose flared and your fists battled with the walls; I should have trusted the “but” buzzing in my head when it was time to say I do. I didn’t, and the should haves are eating at what’s left of my soul.

Trust me, you’ll say. And I did, when I should have trusted in the creator , the one who made you from dust. Now, I know better than to take your words for more than they truly are- a grain of salt.

The above Image is courtesy of Lovethispic.com

Liberation-

Liberation-

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I see you conceal dark circles
And apply your mascara,
I hear you silence your sniffles
With pillow every night,
I see you cover with henna
The bruises on your arms,
But I know, oh mother
Who the knight Is In the battle.

He calls you names like lousy
Scarring you with his venom,
And he claims he does love you
Body and soul, fist and punches,
You take his storm and thunder
Shielding us under the weather,
Love and mercy go hand in hand
And his is just one sided.

He exposes your errors
Shaming you even in public,
And you shrink with every word
Antagonizing your existence,
And your kids are your solace
To us, you are a temple,
You’ve been fighting this battle
We say- it’s time you retire.

He can’t hurt you anymore
For your kids will be your armor,
And the patience you practiced
From your lord will be your reward,
Take one step into the pathway
There’s a whole world beyond this,
It is time to break the shackles
And step into liberation.

Mental Health Friday #18

Mental Health Friday #18

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“I felt as though I were standing in a box and the box kept getting smaller. Every time I felt ok, something happened that would knock me around again.”

The above is an excerpt from my last post. During this time, my emotional reaction was intense. The people in my life that I had always been there for, left me feeling completely worthless to everyone. Being badgered about my medications made me feel as though it didn’t matter what I did or said, and it didn’t. I was intensely hurt, and intensely angry. I can’t say how horrible those couple of years were, but I can say it was never as bad as being with my ex-husband.

When I first left, my physical state was one where I could not safely walk an eighth of a mile by myself for worry that my legs would give out on me. I had trouble with depth perception, balance and coordination. From the start, every time I was with John and I was in pain, he would ask me to go for a walk. I found that walking made the pain better and I began to walk everyday. At this point I was medication free.

That winter, I went back to my doctor once my insurance was all set and I got back on the medication. This only lasted a couple of days before I was unable to stand up. I was extremely dehydrated and my body was not breaking down the medications. I knew it was my liver. I went to the doctor’s three times over the next year and every time I was seen by a nurse. It took until July of 2015 to get an appointment with my doctor. Then they cancelled the appointment because the doctor had to take a month off. At that point, I made the decision to find a new doctor. Over the past few months, there have been a lot of doctor’s appointments and I have been in treatment for Hepatitis C for four weeks now.

In the spring of 2014, less than a year after I left my ex-husband, I got a phone call from a friend. I had known this woman for 18 years, although I had not seen her or talked to her since before the previous Christmas. When I answered the phone she asked me why I didn’t have a truck yet and I said I didn’t have the money. She said I should have had a job by then, that it had been over a year, (it hadn’t) I told her I was disabled and she told me that she sees people in wheel chairs bagging groceries. She said I was looking to blame someone for my life and when I asked why she was saying these things to me, she said because of the conversations she had had with me over the winter. I replied to that saying, “But I did not have a phone over the winter.” She insisted I talked to her on John’s phone, but that was never true. She had obviously spoken to someone else and was yelling at me for it. I tried to talk to her about this later on three different occasions, only to be told that she didn’t have time for it. I could not continue a friendship with this woman and it broke my heart. I did not, nor do I understand why she called me to say those things. Sometimes it is the not knowing that makes it the worst. Read more

Mental Health Friday #17

Mental Health Friday #17

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“When I moved into my new room at the sober women’s house on July 2, 2012, I was mandated to attend thirty A.A. meetings in thirty days, without exception. It had already begun that people in the program were treating me differently although I did not know why at the time. I felt uncomfortable going to the meetings, in addition to the fact that being forced to go made it difficult with my defiance issues. I have never been in a detox or any other facility where I was told what to do. John went to the meetings with me and I now found it very difficult to sit through the hour meeting now that it was mandated as opposed to being my own choice.”

The above is an excerpt from my last post here.

During the next couple of months, my mind was a whirlwind. It was overwhelming to feel free and on my own. I spent a lot of time talking to my friend Kay at the sober house and talking with John. As I mentioned, he went to the thirty meetings in thirty days with me. To get a slip signed saying I was there, I had to sit through the entire meeting.

One evening, we were at a meeting and I was having an extremely hard time sitting still. At break time, I was about to walk away and give it up when a man I had never met before came outside and sat with me. His name was also John and he talked to me and gave me the hope I needed to go back in. If not for this man who at the time had thirty days of sobriety, I would have walked away at that moment. I thank him for that.

A few days after I had moved out, my ex-husband told me that he was going to have to cancel my health insurance, but that he would wait until I had gotten my own. I knew he was not going to wait. I made the decision to wean myself off of my meds before my ins. was cancelled. It took two months for me to do this. On Aug 29, 2012, my then husband called to tell me that my insurance would be cancelled the next day. If I had not weaned myself off of the medications, I would have ended up in the hospital.

Going to my home group of A.A. became miserable for me. Some people in my group would not look at me and the ones who did insulted me. I didn’t know this at the start, but my ex-husband was telling people that I was manic and out of control. He was also telling people about my eating and sleeping issues. Every Friday, when I went to my home group, I was questioned on my weight. I had been 170 pounds, 40 pounds overweight, due to bloating from the medications and when I stopped them, the bloating had gone away and it was very noticeable. At first people told me I looked good, but one week they simply started to say I was too skinny, that I looked sick. They wanted to know if I was eating and sleeping. I do not go to A.A. meetings for eating.

Read more