Tag: blame

A sample from Book 12

(April 21, 2018)—That knife becomes weaker when we gain the support of others, when we start to see the true meaning behind our life. That knife doesn’t come out that easy especially when you see everyone’s true disclosure.

There’s so much to say, then there’s nothing to say. I have this much on my mind: If they don’t want to see you, it doesn’t matter what you say or do, they won’t see you.

I’ve said a lot here on Facebook. I revealed a lot…but there’s a lot I haven’t revealed. So you only get a piece of the puzzle…never the whole picture. Why? Because I do have a life and part of that life is private as for everyone else. There’s a lot of pain I cover up…and, yes, there is still pain. There will always be pain because an entire portion of my life has been wiped out…and not by choice.

I tried calling my daughter. It appears that she’s changed her number. I think that odd because the words I last typed her in text were answers to words she said to me, but I’m held totally accountable. Why? Oh, because I’m 49 years old and should know better. I’m the mom…but that doesn’t come into affect when I’m called by my name instead of Mom. Just saying….

 Knife
  
 it was put in there‒ 
nice and tight
 when I move around
to the left, to the right
 it reveals its price
 ‒how it changed my life
 the strength it took‒ 
robbing my mind
 the way it makes me wanna fight
 even if it isn't right
 even if I said...say...things impolite
 I was...am...gonna fight
 ‒even while speaking of the light
  
 at times, I feel like a poltergeist
 a faded memory...sliced and diced
 forgotten the way I was
 forever entombed in what I've become
 not a homicide
 ‒a genocide of all that was nice
 womanly, motherly...dignified
 downgraded to a parasite
 ‒not fit for normal's life
  
 should I be lost in contrite
 bowed down in pity...outright
 or was I absolutely right
turning childlike
 begging for help‒ 
from Yeshuah, the Christ†
  
 who has the right to decide‒ 
I'm the sacrifice
 in order for them‒ 
to have their paradise
  
 who had the right‒ 
shift truth to lies
 bury this knife
in what used to be‒
 a mother, sister, daughter, wife
  
 in me...it so mystifies
 how everyone becomes tongue-tied
 when abuse is in transcribe
 ‒the victim screams in alive
 how extreme...me...it mortifies
 that, no matter which way‒ 
death...comes in die
 twist, twist, twist the knife
 gone daughter, sister, mother, wife
  
 rebuilding exemplified
the alibis become jives
 words in wisdom...just implied
 while words...wombs...rob the mind
 memories of building the first life‒
 took one times forty-five
  
 pull, pull, pull out the knife
time in modify
 is there another forty-five
 my, my, my how it mystifies
 what comes of‒ 
pulling out the knife  

Continue reading “‘Knife’”