“Conscience”

there’re some times
when I just feel damaged
I know it’s not true
that’s why I call it a feeling
but man
does it catch me offguard
and cause so many tears

who was I?
who am I?
is who I am caused by who I was?
is who I was covered by who I am?

listen to when I say
these are just moments
but as I was praying through this one
I felt called to write

since God hasn’t blessed me with NO memory
I’m stuck to deal with what comes my way
and this morning
as it was coming my way
I asked someone from my past
what was I like?
because honestly
I don’t remember much good

what comfort it brought me
to hear some good
but at the same time
I still felt damaged
but that’s when I trust
His word to wash my mind
as my tears wash my face

My Son Turned 14 on 4/17/2017!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Nathan!! I know you won’t see this, but my heart doesn’t care, so I’m posting it anyway.

I’m so proud of you and miss you immensely!
There’re times when I think you’ve made the smartest decision out of all of us.
There’re times when I wonder how life will go on.
There’re times when I rage inside because you’re growing up without me.
There’re times when I rage inside because I’m growing up without you.
My bones miss your laughter.
My muscles miss your hugs.
My heart misses your smile.
But even though we’re far apart, you still turned 14!!
And even though we’re far apart, I’m still breathing.
I love you!

[Photo credit: Kyle, from the movie theater on 4/16/17]

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Rain in Every Aisle

Every once in awhile, I get in shutdown mode, and lately, that’s where I’ve been. You wanna know what’s funny: usually, advice gets me there. Anyway, last week was…how should I word it…tough? Yeah, tough, but Friday evening ended up the night for Scott and I to start Christmas shopping, but it didn’t go well. Continue reading

“Trudging”

since leaving Lemon Grove
I’ve been oppressed
and let me tell you
the dark can get darker

along the road
many turned away
some remained silent
while others stood by

praying
hoping
holding
believing

many said
not to write
or at least
not out loud

but if they only knew
how many times
I held a pen
how many journals
were sent
and as I sat there
with pen in hand
only tears would
fall

when ink
becomes tears
pages become
warped

with every thing inside
I felt buried
with no where to express
parts died

but maybe they needed to
for other parts to live

when a forest burns
new life grows
because what once was shaded
now has light

to those who turned away
welcome back
to those who stayed
let’s move on
to those who were silent
I’m ready to listen

“Lake Tides”

will I be found out
that I’m not happy
will the tears
show through my eyes
they’re like a river
always rising
above the dam
exploding through
drowning seeds
pulling up dirt
mixing the foundation
to look murky

will the murkiness show
without me writing?
will the mask of happiness
become all I know?

time to go put on a show
who put the dam there anyway