Keeping It Real I have been designed many times: who I am who I should be who I was meant to be. But none asked what I am to me what I was meant to be or what I see in me. They count the years and fuel my fears with their unasked for expectations. No one seems willing for me to be me - They will say they do- There is the lie. They can't handle the truth of me. And so they see what they want to see the maddening fever of their mirage. So they polish up and shine the me they designed and leave me to languish, wasted dusty on the shelf. There I sit after having been split by good intentions and kind words, struggling to reassemble myself while you nurture a leprechaun elf.
I Try and Compose Myself I stay still and pray for the will to keep myself together. The more I try to shut my eyes A little piece of me falls away like the burnish autumn leaves. Silently too like an old banshee I scream from the fright of what this could mean. Layer after layer melted in a scurry while I sat nervously fretting and sweating with worry - what could this mean? As each layer continues to fall away - to de-compose and expose - What I see, is a deep down rawness of a tale no one knows - not even me.
Reputation There goes the lie on spindly legs. It crawls about trying to find a route out of the doubts that it may not be who it seems. The Lie: We must protect Reputation - at all cost: kill if you must steal, fight and cuss. But don't let out the truth of what it is... Constructed to please the crowd now a monster too proud to be cowed by humilty. Knees stiffened back straight eyes fixed on success' frivolities. Now it goes through the door Head held high headed for the gate that leads straight to hades. Humility stand just a way off, waiting for those who seek, waiting for those who are meek.
Honesty Honesty says yes she was self-serving in serving. Honesty says yes she tried to get ahead on top of your head. Honesty says yes I made many mistakes and was blinded by pride. But - she is ready to make an effort to be better do better and remain honest that she is imperfect.
The Gratitude Journal I want to say I'm grateful, for this life for my many things for my many friends and for my many family true? But also, a slow Sunday afternoon sunlight glistening on dark and rich skin life breathe flowing in and out eyes to see nose to smell a shelter where I can dwell... And, sadness that brings joy sun to chase away the storms ignorance that births wisdom mistakes and failures that nip me awake and escape the destruction that awaits just around the corner... Most of all, I thank God for the gift of gratitude that rewards with beatitudes.
Position Yourself Position Yourself and find the place where you can occupy the space intended for you. Position yourself to accept your calling knowing that in the morning you will know your calling. Position yourself ease into your place and be still in that time that you will find sublime, sublimely yours. Feel, know and hear the whispers of truth denied in the lies of death. Position yourself, stand firm, hold your position, for the battle is not yours...
Betrayal et tu Brutus? Was a wound ever so deep? "Ista quidem vis est!" But the damage was done. Faster than the bullet from a gun love, trust and camaraderie condemned never to rise again. On the tree of misguided self-righteousness a single groan signaled the end no more words uttered. Let us mourn what was that is no more. What could have been now stunted within the sin of betrayal. Now I must shed this skin of innocence spun in deceit. Now to get the salt and pepper not to kill you - but to find something new something that is true...