Faith and Forgiveness

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I feel adrift in this crazy world,

Never knowing what’s coming next.

Being pulled in every direction,

Mostly feeling vexed.

I often feel as if I am on the outside looking in,

Never making up for things I’ve done,

Never feeling a win.

But there’s a hope within me,

And a love that grows each day.

A light like sunshine,

That floods in to extinguish the gray.

I’m clinging to an optimism,

that maybe it’s not too late.

And a prayer that after forgiveness,

I can start with a clean slate.

I’m feeling undeserving,

In the most vulnerable way.

The fight is on for survival,

The fear must subside today.

On my knees begging,

For the chance to show some change.

Whatever I have to do,

And fully prepared to fully rearrange.

So, I’ll walk through this door,

with faith instead of worry.

For once try and slow my mind down,

And not be in such a hurry.

Laying my insides out,

And stop living for everyone else.

Fighting away a doom that makes me want to shout,

Finally placing procrastination on a shelf.

No matter the outcome,

I’m still here in the now.

Thankful for the blessings,

And not questioning the why and the how.

I will love til my last breath,

asking everyone to not be sad.

So incredibly grateful for family and lessons,

Not spending another single second mad.

I encourage you to be raw and open,

And to never waste each chance.

And to never give up, no matter what,

Life is fleeting, love is priceless, and our time here on this earth one big and beautiful dance.

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Note To My Subscribers

I wanted to take a moment and say thank you so much for your support. Writing is everything to me and it means even more to know that people enjoy and support my passion.

I wanted to take a moment to encourage you to go check out my older posts and entries. Just scroll to the bottom to the archives and let me know what you think.

There are entries of poetry, and even more vulnerable posts about motherhood, and dealing with my daughter’s mental illness, and autistic diagnosis.

Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and love. And I look forward to continuing this journey with you.

Debra ❤

I Am Here..

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I’ve been zoning out again, in my head, feeling inspired, or maybe it’s just pure stress. Either way, here I am. I find that during this time, could be a great time if you listen very closely to the small faint voices in your spirit, and all around you, for it to be possible to hear answers you were seeking, and sometimes didn’t even know you were seeking. It is also a time when you can replay your day, and deal with things you may have been putting off dealing with. A time for evaluation and soul stirring moments if you let it really soak in.

So, here I am.

On a day like today, it is so easy to droop down in your seat and feel sorry for yourself. However, it is sobering to instead, to look at yourself in the mirror and admit that you are not the best version of yourself. Try as you may, you may find that small blips of what you did or didn’t do have all but led you right here. But it’s also nice to know that as you look at yourself, as far as long-term relationships in your life, you have done all you can to solidify and reassure those, times two. And also have done everything you can to fully invest yourself into these relationships. And in recognizing that, it is important to reach a destination inside of that thinking and accepting that no matter what you want in a lot of those situations, sometimes goodbye is the last action needed, if a resolution still has not presented itself.

Profound right? Ha! So, what if these relationships are more complicated than just a simple goodbye? Like a last page you just can’t seem to turn so you can close the book.

But I regress. Because the truth is, we don’t ever really get back what we put out do we? I guess that if you are being selfless, then you really shouldn’t be expecting anything in return really.

I bite my tongue a lot. I sit back in my mind and am sometimes flabbergasted at the way people just spew out of their mouths the first vomit that chokes up, without ever considering that you may be standing on that cliff with only the back of your heels left planted on the edge because the weight of everything is leaning you forward. And, the wind is blowing you so brutally that you don’t really want to fight it much anymore. Maybe they don’t realize that the simple phone call you make to them in the middle of the workday, or the middle of the week, is your soul’s way of just trying to cry out to them. Just to say, I’m scared. I’m small. I’m feeling beat down. Or they post on social media things they don’t realize actually really hurt you. Or they don’t even call when it’s public knowledge that you are 100% not well. But people don’t think that way. Especially when it’s not them going through it. Humans are selfish and disgusting creatures.

You can feel them judging you. Why aren’t you working? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you doing that? It’s so easy to do that isn’t it? To push those hurtful questions on someone who isn’t you. Especially when they truly will never know the extent of what you’re going through.

Or to think you know better for my child too because you think you could have done it better? Nah. In order to know exactly how everything would’ve turned out with you doing it instead, you would need to go back and live every moment. Starting from being the abused pregnant mom-to-be, to the abused new mom, all the way through each and every heartache your child went through, the bullying, rejections, watching your child be admitted into a mental ward and having to leave her there, the autism diagnosis, multiple mental health diagnosis’s since then, daily suicide talks, daily crying, cutting. Do you know what it’s like to have to go in your house and take every sharp object, or things that could be considered weapons, and any form of medications, buy a padlock, and lock everything up with a key? Or the horrible emptiness in a house the first week you bring them home from that hospital and what torment is trapped in your house? and I could go on and on. You absolutely can’t say you would do it differently or better unless you go back and live in every second of our lives, of my life. You just can’t.

Up until some people made me think different, I had always been thoroughly proud of the mother I was. Proud of coming through what I did and still loving and caring for my daughter unconditionally, always doing my best, although admittedly, it wasn’t much sometimes. A lot of kids that have mothers who have been through what I have, don’t get so lucky. So, I’ve always been proud of at least that small accomplishment. Well, at least until the past few years. At the end of each day, I have only tried to do the best I can with what I have. And I hope one day, my daughter is able to look at it that way and find a way to be proud of me.

You have to, especially if you are sick and limited to the amount of anger and emotional intake you are allotted each day, make the word acceptance a massive part of your everyday life. You have to really get to know yourself on a level you never dreamed of wanting to. Because in the end of each “middle of the night, hard day, faint voices, spirituality time,” it is inevitably you that you are there sitting with.

Personally, a lot of nights, being alone with me is hard. And that’s hard to describe. Because I absolutely don’t hate myself. I think no matter which way I went or roads I took, I would have ended in this same place, here, with myself. However, I want to make myself clear. I am unapologetically fucking sick. I don’t have to beg you to believe it, or care about how you feel about it anymore. I may live 100 more years, and I hope I do. But what a shame if I don’t? Well, shame for you, not me. I’ll be dead. (Insert wink)

One thing I do love about these new standards I’ve set, and these new lines I’ve drawn in the sand, is that I don’t have to settle anymore. I won’t limit myself to life-sucking friendships, drama, and complete two-faced bitchery and fakery! I can take my time and only accept people into my life whom I have things in common with, and who put just as much into things as I try to. A whole new story to write.

I am finally ready to rid myself of the outside bacteria that has long held me back. I don’t have to deal with it anymore. That is at least one think I can finally say I’m free from. And if you know me, that’s so huge.

So, everything else…over there!

And me, I am here….

Blood Type: Mass Chaos

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Insane in the name of patriotic progress, we shuffle to each location.

Crippling from the inside-out, and being watched by every nation.

A country full of rage and separation, and counting down to implosion,

Almost too lost to be saved, and our souls infected with erosion.

War-torn, and a spinning money-hungry fireball,

The Earth starts spinning in the opposite direction.

The clock is ticking away for the short time left to make amends,

Now starts the days of an insurrection.

The green grass turns brown, and the blue sky turns gray,

And this world offers no more unity.

A nation of talent and opportunities galore,

Every inch of it wasted and empty of a harmonious and capable community.

The volcanos will erupt, and the ground will shake profusely,

There will be no place left to run away,

The violent attacks will be delivered diffusely,

Like an upside down doomsday.

There will be no one to hear your cries,

Those you love will turn without hesitation,

Even the animals will weep as they watch the land die,

And as each human, one by one, give into damnation.

Hug Me Mama

Hold me Mama,

I can’t hide anymore.

I’m scared and alone,

And my whole body’s sore.

Hug me tight,

I need every ounce of love and care,

Even though in the past I didn’t let you.

I’m saying out loud, it’s different now,

And I need all that you can spare.

Can I be little, just once more?

And let you brush my hair?

Let’s go to one more yard sale,

Drive up to a lookout and just stare.

Forgetting for even a moment,

The days ahead that will take up the room.

And all of the sadness, and most of all,

the darkness and gloom.

Hold me Mama.

I need you to see,

How beautiful I think you are,

And just how much you mean to me.

I forgive you Mama.

Can you forgive me?

For not seeing the sadness,

And the way you’ve grown weak in your knees?

Can you tell me you believe in me?

And I made you full of pride?

Even though I’ve accomplished nothing,

And couldn’t even make it as a bride?

Can you tell me stories of the times things were good?

Or tell me what’s gonna happen, if things don’t turn out the way they should?

Hug me Mama.

I need something, anything today.

Before the days slip away from us,

And all hope has gone array.

I love you Mama.

Sick or not, it will always ring true.

Even when I’m sad,

And tears stream down my baby blues.

I’m here Mama.

Still here, writing these words.

Struggling to drive to the store, and trying to focus,

As I take these sharp curves.

I just smiled and spit my drink Mama,

Thinking of all the times I’ve pranked you.

And how wrecked your nerves must be by now when I’m around,

Thinking I’m always near the corner,

Jumping out with airhorns, trying to get a rise or two.

I hope you’re well Mama.

I’m thinking of you today.

I love you Mama,

In every form, always and forever,

Yesterday and today.

Candlelight for One

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It’s amazing when a hard, unexpected rain falls down, that that’s right when you have no umbrella. Life is very much like that. Family is very much like that. And most of all, love is very much like that.

In theory, most want love and family, friends and a social life, and great success in life. However, there are some of us out there that find it profoundly moot to follow the same path over and over expecting different results.

It’s absolutely exhausting trying so hard to complete a pattern in your life with a fruitful end. True colors always show, and not many are truly capable of being selfless over selfish, although there are a select few, I will even admit. And in this real world, well, that’s a definitely deal breaker, being on the weighted selfish side of the stomping.

So, here I sit, alone per usual. Obviously a little bitter, and maybe even borderline pouting, and not afraid at all of expressing it. Currently extremely doubtful of a crowd-filled future, and seeing clearly the value and stone coldness of truth. But also humbled by the experience.

I’ve turned all of the lights off in my house. I’m quite sure it’s for multiple reasons. One being that I am all but nearing jump off of the cliff of losing everything, and lights turned off equals less power being used on planet USA. [Insert the echoes of my grandfather’s voice scolding me to turn the lights off at 10, here.]

However, I would say the reason that takes precedence over all others would be the fact that here, alone in this house, I wanted only the glow of the candles I have lit. Or the topper lit up at the top of my undecorated Christmas tree. I can bare no more light than that on this bitter night. It makes me feel less small, less abandoned, less sad.

And now, take part in this pity party with me.

I have never experienced such a deafness in my small world, as those around you hearing your cries of sadness and projected fear, and merely turning their head as if there’s something God-awful in my teeth. But, I regress. I, probably more than anyone, know that there are some paths in your life that are roughly designed for one. And I wholly and wildly accept that.

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I also acknowledge that I’ve spent a huge majority of my life purposely pushing people away, needing isolation and enjoying being alone. But when you are sick, it’s different feeling. There is a complete difference in enjoying being alone, and being so very lonely. I realize that now more than ever. It’s humbling. A truly faith-sucking experience and not personally recommended by me for self-revelation.

I love everyone. But in another way, I have given up on everyone. I don’t expect them to understand. Because I never allowed them to, and that’s my own fault. They mean the world to me, in ways they couldn’t possibly understand. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I feel entirely let down, and lost on how to fix that. I would find it easier to go back in time and do it differently, rather than try and fix it now.

I guess, all I can really do is keep continuing to press on as I have. Remaining strong for the one person I have here looking to me to make sure everything stays ok. Even though, deep down, I don’t even know what that means anymore. I’m not truly angry or as bitter as I let on. I love everyone fully with my entire heart. And honestly, I know the trials of life can take us in 50 different directions. We get caught up in our own stuff, and sometimes, we forget that maybe there’s someone out there, very close to us, suffering, scared, and just needing to be told, “Hey, I am here, and I love you.” And, “You’re doing good.”

Well, I am here. And I love you. And you’re doing amazing. Whoever you are out there reading this….

Whiskey Saturdays, And No Regrets..

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Cusps of a wrist slit, and all of a sudden you meet a person who changes your mindset. Maybe you meet someone like that daily, weekly, or sometimes, it’s a once in a lifetime meet.

A somber song about whiskey blares out of another car at the pump station, and you think of the last whiskey binge you had giggling to yourself at the tripping of your feet, the way your clothes still smelled of campfire the next morning, and how you can’t quite remember how you showered before bed, but you did.

In these moments, it’s as though the hourglass flips over again to give us another go at it. Laughable and angering at times, because some of those cusps of a wrist slit moments are the only moments in your life where you were 100% decisive about something.

But no matter, because here you sit at the pump station, stealing the music notes of another, as if illegally downloading it to memory. Now, briefly cringing at the thought of understanding exactly what they are saying, and smiling at the prospect of it.

You laugh to yourself as it really hits you. No one has time for your nonsense like you have had for theirs. You recall endless phone calls, endless support on your end, seemingly withered away due to the annoyance of your constant mockery of a life and your bottomless chaos. Yet, you still see beauty in this tarnish.

You now design your brain another future night of whiskey, and you know just who it will be with. That brings a great comfort and even an excitement of what new whiskey adventures await you to piece together once they have came to pass.

You put the car in drive, roll the windows down, and secretly cheers to the silence. For the confinements of your mind, if nothing else, have gifted you the comfort of yourself.

Beautiful and raw, broken and wanting, sexy and explicitly ripped wide open, and smiling through it, even if only for these brief moments.

Love, even if it’s with your drunken body. Runs circles around the fire and all at once, jump over it. Savor a whiskey-fueled kiss with passion and smoke. Peel away your layers and dance naked and free. And cheers to you, on every whiskey Saturday.

Let Freedom Bang!

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There comes a time in your life where you reach a peak of knowing what you stand for. Once you get there, it’s so important to never falter, and to always remain strong. No matter what people think of you. It’s important because although it may take days, months, and even years, change comes about when you lead by example.

A lot of people you thought would ride with you forever fall by the sideline. And I know people say, “don’t lose friends and family over difference of opinion.” That’s shit advice in certain situations. If what that person stands for is something that hurts you, or even a certain people that you love and care for, and stand for, then that friendship and even family relation can’t and won’t work. I say that in the most compassionate way. It doesn’t mean that I believe that my opinion or belief is the only one in the world. It does mean that in certain sections of certain beliefs or battles, my opinion and what I stand for will take top priority. And those who carry beliefs that cause harm or oppression to others have to get off of the path, and give up their seat at the table. Our season in each other’s lives may be ending in that moment. You must be strong enough in your beliefs and standards, that when it’s necessary to finally cut that cord, you do so without hesitation.

Freedom is a word that many take for granted. It’s swallowed up and spit out like yesterday’s trash. Most seem to forget that to many still out there in this nation, and many others, freedom is life or death. It’s oppression and a constant knife to the wrist. It’s putting your hurting child to bed in tears, locking a window, and double checking the doors, knowing that tomorrow, you’ll have to explain to them why they look different and are treated different than other children simply because of the color of their skin. It’s giving a preparation talk with them before simply leaving the house for the store. Your job of raising these innocent children is a challenge that a lot wouldn’t understand, and sadly, a lot also don’t care to. This oppression, carried over to innocent children throughout generations, is one of the reasons that I stand strong in my stance and belief in equality and also eradicating systematic racism, bigotry, homophobia, and just pure ignorance in this world.

Freedom to many others is simply loving who they want to love out loud and unchained. I am a woman who loves women and men. I value them equally.

I only wish to explore the parts of this world that are untapped in every crevice. To be truly free to be myself unapologetically. I make a choice to do it rather you like it or not. But how beautiful would it be if you just chose to love me anyway? To really smile my way and be ok that I stand for what I stand for.

I am gay.

I am straight.

I am black.

I am white.

I am lost.

I am found.

I am sad.

I am happy.

I am chained.

And finally, I am free.

Black Nights, And Words We Write

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Do you ever just get exhausted from being dark and in gloom and doom all of the time? I’ve noticed a pattern lately, and it reflects in every expression that comes forth from my spirit. The way that I write, the facial expressions I make, and even the way I view others. Still, I can’t seem to break away from it. It’s as though it is a part of my body. A part of me. Here’s the thing though, just because I write this way, or view things in a gloom setting, doesn’t mean I’m always feeling that way, or living with the lights off. I’ve just never really been able to view things or people without seeing some darkness.

I guess it’s like a little girl who loves their favorite doll. They won’t go anywhere without it. I am the same with my darkness.

I think it’s beautiful. Exquisitely divided and different from how others see things, and that is really special when you can offer up another dimension of vision for others. I love when other’s views and expressions do that for me as well. Like reading the most adventurous of books, closing your eyes, and escaping there into its pages.

If you can open yourself up to seeing things from someone else’s viewpoint, oh the places you can go without ever needing to move.

So, I say that to say, sometimes we, as writers, go through long periods of time where a lot of our writing and thoughts seem to breed from the same place. Sometimes, it’s just who you are as a writer in a season, and sometimes, it’s just who you are.

Every reason for it is freedom, purpose, individuality, and it is ok.

The War Torn Mind

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I wanna dwell in war torn streets, where my environment fits my chaos. That’s the way I see the world. Scavenging for basic necessities. Giving up on the mainstream fruits of life so the pressures of that life leave me. A dented can I feel like, kicked around as someone’s fun game, and even in that, I feel as though everything will seem like home.

I saw two dogs today, stray I suppose, playing their hearts out in the middle of nowhere. I remember saying to my daughter, “Look, even in someone’s saddest of times, and lowest of seasons, they can find a reason to be happy, even if only briefly.” I’m not sure if I believed it as I was even saying it, but I wanted to. And more than that, I wanted her to.

She told me that she didn’t know what it was, but at the beginning of fall, and the cold season, and the beginning of spring, she always felt nostalgia. As she drove us home, she asked me if I felt the same. I nodded my head as I stared at the sunset and a single tear secretly dripped down the side of my face that she could not see. I thought to myself, and then told her, “you know, I haven’t gotten to enjoy many sunsets in a long time, because it’s always me driving these roads, but it’s your turn now.” I leaned forward as much as I could, to bask in everything it had to offer. And I thought, I don’t have to pay anything for this. It’s free, and right now, it’s mine.

The pressures of making right for her seem too much at times, and yet, here I am; still dragging these heavy feet along. But I always think about it, a life without this trailer. Maybe some coffee over a fire, with the grounds still floating in it. Just the dusty streets and the forest. No sounds of cars and traffic, or people talking. Just a search for a little bit of food and water to forage, and a place to lie my head down in hopes that the next day will be just as quiet and bring blessings of portioned substance. A life that truly matches the chaos that fills my being.

Still, she pulls the car into our driveway, and we have to get out. I carry the little bit I afforded at the store, and try to smile and at least appreciate that she got the 2 yogurts she wanted, and I am sitting here now, writing, and also dreaming.

I don’t let myself dream beyond much more than these things. And it’s not that I don’t feel I deserve more. I don’t feel beyond that at all, not for myself at least. I’d be lying if I said I don’t for her though. I do. For me, I don’t allow myself to miss or envy things I’ve never experienced. What a sham that would be. I sit here now, paint severely chipped on my nails, stringy hair, and shoes on my feet that have walked many years with me. Yet, I’m content with these things for me, for now. I don’t want for more, but I never get far past the present day I sit in, and what challenges await me there. Day. By. Day. Never beyond that. If I could plan tomorrow, the seed would be empty of it, and unsafe for my focus.

My daughter teared up talking to me today. She told me her boyfriend was off shopping, spending $500 gifted to him by family. She was heartbroken that she herself, could not be afforded days like that, and never really has. Trust me, she has been gifted many things on Christmas and birthdays, for years to count. However, I knew what she meant. I couldn’t even buy her a thrift store shirt right now if I wanted to. My contentment for myself, is not the same as my contentment for her. I, in the face of her 15 years, have failed her greatly. I haven’t given up, but I say it out loud because I accept it. My hope is that someday, she could find a way to be proud of me for something. I hope I accomplish that in my lifetime. It’s on the top of a very short list of things I want.

I feel that one should dream the dreams of the kind of spirit your mind connects with. It may not be fancy things, or a lavish lifestyle. Maybe it’s just simply dreaming that one day, you’ll just simply be…okay. And that will be a freedom that will be more than this world could ever offer in things.