The Empty Room

The empty room where love once lived is now
dark and cold.
The ugliness here is suffocating.
Every molecule a reminder of moments we shared.
Laughter has been painted over with heartache.
Hopes replaced by motionless dreams.
Dead and buried are our promises.
We both became breakers of those.
We fooled ourselves into believing
that love would live here forever.
But love left suddenly.
No long goodbye
or forwarding address.
Who knows where broken hearts go
off to heal?
I sigh an abhorred sigh,
as I begin to pick up fragments
of my battered vacancy sign.

Bad Little Girl

Like most bad little girls,
I’m alone in my room feeling
unwanted and worthless.
The deprivation of your heart and soul,
plus your inability to fully commit
equals me, unlovable.

Why am I being punished?

I look out my window and I’m jealous of the lovebirds.
I’m angry at the sunshine.
Today is a day for lovers and lovers of lovers.

But I’m a bad little girl, checking my cell phone,
re-reading text messages, feeling humiliated
as I settle for pieces of you.

I’ve lost all sense of self, but still, I wait for your call.
Some of your attention is better than no attention at all.
I’m a bad little girl, anxiously waiting for my temporary reprieve.

Wouldn't Change A Thing

You could offer me money
And I wouldn’t change a thing
Not my hair, my nose
Or my hips that swing.

I wouldn’t change the way I walk
If you offered me gold.
Or the skin that I’m in
Deep down to my soul.

I wouldn’t change where I’m from,
I wouldn’t change what you see.
I wasn’t born in Africa,
But she was born in me!

Why wouldn’t I change?

‘Cause I’m a proud Black woman.
A Goddess, a Queen.
You could offer me the world,
But I wouldn’t change a thing.

Rhythm

The First Time

Baptised by moonlight.
A flower blooms in darkness.
Their souls are reborn.

My Black Pride

Confessions of a Light Skinned Girl

I use to want to have dark skin, the
kind that would make Momma smile.
The kind she and Grandma wore proudly,
I wanted to fit in for a while.

I felt cursed with a scarlet letter
Bestowed by a slave owner before.
I longed to be dark and lovely.
I didn’t want light skin anymore.

Why was I born light-skinned?
It caused me to harden my heart.
I've been called:
Pale
White girl
High yellow
Wanna-be
Red girl
Red bitch
Pasty bitch
Fluorescent
I was even compared to swine.
You can see the veins in a pig’s skin,
the same way you see through mine.

I never wanted special treatment,
because of the tone of my skin.
Caucasians let their guards down
And I’m idolized by some Black men.

But that was me then…

I use to want to have dark skin,
but there’s been a transformation in me.
I embrace my place on the rainbow.
I’m Black, proud, and light-skinned, the way God intended me to be.

My Life

My life, filled with disappointments and regrets.
The bad choices were self-inflected.
Am I an imbecile, unlucky or unblessed?

God has turned a deaf ear. He has other prayers
to grant. I crash and I burn, I toss and I turn. Losing my religion.
Evaporating, steadily eliminating all traces of me.

The messy makeup on my face is confirmation of my pain.
Do you care? Does anyone care? Ineffective tears are the only constant
in my life. Loved ones abscond as I fight to hold on. But will I win the
war?

I wear battle scars like gems. Evidence of my resolve.
The demons of confusion dance their victory dance. May I cut in, though?
I won’t go down. I can’t go down. Don’t count me out now. Running swiftly from this madness
will not be done in vain. I may fall, but still I rise. I will live to fight again.

Two Days In The City

Was it tragedy or fate that brought us here?
I feel like I have loved you all my life, and yet,
Today is the day I commit myself to you
And bare my soul.
I stand before you naked, undisguised.
Here I am.
Take me.
Love me.
I want to give myself to you in the worst way.
You can have all of me.
All that I am.
I ask for nothing in return.
On this day our souls become one
And embrace the world.
Let me love you.
Let me ease your pain.
I am your angel and I will disengage the demons
and the ghosts from your past.
Let my love sustain you, it will sustain us always.
We have forever.
No - it’s slipping away...
Like sand in an hourglass.
Despite our best efforts there is no avoidance of pain.
Life gets in the way,
And all that remain, are memories of two days in the city.

Sadness

A Letter to My 10 Year Old Self

Dear Faye,
I know that you are alone a lot. I know that you feel fat and unpretty. That’s what they all have called you...your family, your friends, strangers. No one is going to tell you that you are beautiful, but you have to know that you are. You have to remember that you are kind, and friendly, and smart. That is what makes you beautiful. Your spirit is so beautiful. So stop overeating when you are sad and lonely. Apply yourself in school. You have natural gifts. Use them. No one will encourage you, but use your gifts anyway. You have so much to offer this world. Don't be afraid to embrace your talents. That's called purpose and it is from God.
Speaking of God, He will call home a lot of people who you love. Prepare yourself, some of them will leave you way too soon. Appreciate every moment that you have with your family. Love life. Open yourself up more. Smile often. When you smile the sadness in your eyes disappears. Find the confidence that you will need to become the young lady you really want to be. Don’t look for acceptance in boys and men. That will only add to your unhappiness.
Above all else, make choices from your heart. Never allow anyone to manipulate you or make you do things that feel wrong. You are smarter than you know. Kinder than you should be. And more beautiful than you feel. Listen to your head, but follow your heart always. You’re a special little girl and you will be just fine in this life.
Love always,
Yolanda

Crave U

I lay here in bed
craving you.
Wondering if you're somewhere
craving me too.
I touch myself,
but my own touch won't do.
Damn!
I pine for you.
Whine for you.
About to go straight out of
my mind for you.
I'm craving your flavor
Like a pit bull craves blood.
Wanting so badly to taste your love.
Suck on your sweetness,
Take it all in.
I'll grant you your wishes,
Again, and again, and again,
Like a genie.
I'm trippin'.
But I am craving you.
And I wonder if you are
Craving me too.

Focus On The Cans! - Published on Yahoo Voices

When I was younger, the only thing I ever longed to be was a mother. While other teenage girls were scribbling the names of their heart throbs inside of notebooks, I was jotting down the names of my future children. I'd think to myself, if I were to one day have a baby girl, would I name her something romantic like Valentina or would I name her after her grandmother, Ruth?

Would my future son carry on his father's name or would he have a biblical name like Isaiah? The possibilities were endless!

As a young adult, I babysat for my friends and family as I often as I could. I loved children and couldn't wait to have my own some day. Finally, when I was 29 years old I found out that I was expecting and I was absolutely overjoyed! I day dreamed about soccer practices, birthday parties, and play dates every single day of my pregnancy. But when my son was born with Cerebral Palsy, I found myself mourning the loss of possibilities and all of the hopes and dreams I had for him. I had to accept the fact that despite my unconditional love, there were many things that my son would never be able to do.

This year, Travis will be 13 years old. He cannot walk or talk, but having him in my life is unequivocally the best thing that has ever happened to me. Life hasn't always been easy and there have been many moments of sadness, fear, and uncertainty. But this year, I am embracing the positive. My New Year's resolution is to focus on the CANS!

My son can't walk, but he loves being outdoors. So I CAN take him on more walks in his wheelchair. God knows I could use the exercise.

Travis can't focus on TV, cartoons, or movies but he loves music. So I CAN play his favorite CDs every night. That will be our new bath time ritual.

He can't open presents, but he is fascinated by Christmas lights. So during the holidays, I CAN sit with him next to the Christmas tree and watch his eyes dance as the lights flicker.

Every child is unique and will have his or her strengths, weaknesses, abilities, and limitations. Learn to look at the CANS as gifts. To open the gift you must focus on your child's abilities, not their limitations.

Happy New Year!

Heartbreak

Missing Him

The sound of his voice repeats in my mind
like a never ending song.
His touch invades my thoughts and
I suddenly become
an indigent,
needing to feel his touch again like a flower
needs water to bloom.
I'm lost without him
yet lose myself completely when I am with him.
He is my fear and my fascination.
My pleasure and my pain.
Traces of his cologne are all that remain
inhabiting my body
and reminding me of the moments we shared.

Instant Captivation

Instant captivation…
His look, his smile.
In his eyes I saw
A promise of things to come…
Anticipating the gift of his kiss
No ribbons required.
Just the wrapping of our souls
Intertwined like a subsisting chain
As we acquiesce to
Instant captivation.

Devastation

It started in an instant…
A burning desire
Consuming me like smoke,
Then scorching my entire being like a hearth.
Was he a pyromaniac
or just careless with my heart?
Surrendering to the sparks has left all of who I am
irretrievably charred.
My scars are evident and profound.
I’m damaged and unpretty.
My naiveté fostered every flame.
Trying to forget only empowers the pain.
Memories motivate tears that fall like ashes
from a post-apocalyptic sky.
My ignorance and desperation have been exposed
for the entire world to see and deride.
I sort through the rubble,
wishing that I had been burnt completely to the ground.

A Lioness Is Weeping

Deep inside the forest of contrition,
where the sun forsakes the right to rise,
and mute songbirds fly,
a lioness is weeping.
Wounded by humans,
she fled to a land
where brightness is denied
and communion is eclipsed.
She creeps fearfully through obscurity and despair.
Her beauty and power
has been masked
by endless darkness.
Her tears are melancholy and overflows
like a waterfall.
She is now a shadow of antiquity,
crouching in the bush,
never realizing that as with all things,
time has healed her wounds.
She has been blinded by the night
and can not see that just beyond the darkness,
sunlight awaits,
eager to unveil her greatness
and point her back to a world
of delectation that was maliciously
hidden by mercenarius skies.
Instead, her weeping echoes throughout the gloom
and sticks like a broken record,
repeating a forlorn melody heard by no one
but herself.

Forgiveness

Fades To Black

Forbidden thoughts
awaken conscious fantasies
that dare us to travel through uncharted territory.
Contemplation, the prelude to completion,
takes us on an illicit and uninhibited journey
of sweet sins and certain damnation.
Abandoned by our principles,
binary
becomes
singular,
forming an interlocking chain
of lust and lies.
Time fades in and out
like an antiquated memory.
Today, I am an actress
in a triangular tragedy
giving erotic performances
that his wife respectfully declined.
His presence is my award.
My oral abilities serve as a suitable acceptance speech.
Our bodies applaud each other,
inciting encore after encore.
We find rapture in repetition.
But like the sun disappearing below the horizon,
the curtain always closes.
He hurries home to her
and everything fades to black.

Haunted By Fear

I am the reason you run,
The mother of hate,
The author of anger,
I keep you awake.
I am you, forsaken.
Your last breath taken.
A hound of hell.
A voice that’s shaken.
I am the hijacker of peace.
The robber of dreams,
I am touched by madness.
I am a futile scream.
I’m the pounding in your chest.
I am hope undone.
I creep in the shadows.
I am the reason you run.

Like The Wind

Feel my breath on your face
Footprints I leave in your space
I’m like the wind.

You can’t restrain me
Don’t try to change me
I’m like the wind…wild and free.

If you’re weak I’ll move you
But I won’t try to rule you
I’m like the wind.

Don’t illustrate me
Don’t indicate me
I’m like the wind…I’m here, then gone again.

Just yield to me
Appeal to me
Enjoy me
Then deploy me
I’m like the wind - you won’t discern me.

My Killer Stilettos

My killer stilettos,
The kind to be paired with smooth jazz and floral scented candles.
Whenever I rock these Jimmy Choo sandals,
I
AM
FIERCE!
They are black as night with sexy satin straps.
And diamond encrusted jewels that go up the back.
My killer stilettos with the 6 inch heels
Gives me legs for days and mad sex appeal.
In my killer stilettos I feel oh so naughty
Like a mischievous child with secrets to hide.
They command your attention and catch your eye,
like breathtaking fireworks on the 4th of July.
In my killer stilettos I stomp like a model.
Ripping the runway with long deep strides.
Head held high, and a sway so bold,
Walking down the street I’m a sight to behold.
I’m a foot fetisher’s dream when I show off my toes.
I strut my stuff proudly wherever I go.
I am the envy of women wearing sensible shoes.
And I make teenage boys stop, stare and drool.
Hell, even the stars in the sky envy me.
And when men pass me by,
my stilettos are like kryptonite,
bringing brothas to their knees
My killer stilettos,
Surrounding me in a seductive sense of mystery as I walk my walk
And boy, if these Jimmy Choos could talk
They’d say:
“Come fuck me, but don’t fuck with me!”
My stilettos, killer indeed.

I'm Blaque

That White Shit

There’s an epidemic plaguing our community
Too many of our brothas are on that white shit
Yeah, that nasty white shit
And it ain’t nothing nice
It’s got our men leaving their queens
And their beautiful brown babies
And for what?
For some nasty white shit?
It’s fucking with their heads
It’s got our men believing that Black ain’t beautiful
It’s like they are brain dead
Why brothas, why?
Why are you on that white shit?
Because it’s taboo?
It will destroy your mind
It’s dictating your opinion about your own kind
That white shit is the worst drug there is
It’s got you seeing things that’s not there
Distortions
Hallucinations
Shhh, what’s that she say?
Nigger this!
Nigger that!
Whenever you are away
It’s no hallucination, brotha
It’s your blue eyed angel in disguise
She’s got you hypnotized
Because you’re on that white shit
Poor fool!
You’ve got the fever
You’re just another believer
But it’s cool my kings
When you’re ready for intervention
We’ve got the little brown pill
That will heal you and instill
Pride in your own
And put you back on your thrown
So with my fist in the air I declare
To all my brothas
And you better hear me good
You need to come back to your hood
And leave that white shit for good.

That Place

I want to go to that place
That faraway place
Where I can finally sleep to dream
Where the ocean meets the sky
And there is silence
I want to go to the place where forever is born
A warm bright light will guide me there
And I will have no fear
I will be at peace
And experience tranquility
I will worry no more
And I will feel no pain
I will be free from anxiety and strain
At that place
All of my emotional scars will be healed
My heart will be made whole
And I will have no memory
Of the good or the bad
I will simply lay my head on solitude’s pillow
And sleep.

I Love You

I survey you.
Your nakedness is uncovered.
Girl, you are magnificence personified.
Every curve on your body gives me pleasure
because they are a testament to the fact that
you're a woman in every sense of the word.
You’re alluring and I love you!
Your skin, the color of sweet vanilla sugar,
not Black enough for some,
but Black none the less,
feels like wild African silk.
You are an exquisite flower of femininity.
Your eyes are so warm and brown.
They evoke myriad memories.
They are the window to your soul and to your heart.
They are eyes of innocence.
Oh, how I love you.
And although your hair may not be considered "good",
I love every strand.
Your coiled coif sits on your head majestically and proudly
because you are a descendant of royalty.
I love you like no man ever could.
I love you at your best and at your worst.
I love you in the morning and at night.
With every breath I take, I love you.
For the first time, yes.
I can finally and forever look in the mirror and say,
Girl, you are beautiful and I love you!

Happiness

I long to experience true happiness.
To be engulfed in it is all I want to feel.
I’ve tried to apprehend it, but to no avail.
Am I not deserving?
I probe.
I look at the woman in the mirror.
She’s wretched,
Emaciated... starving from the constant privation of pleasure
fulfillment and joy.
If only I were prettier,thinner,wealthier.
If only I had someone to love.
Then I’d be happy!
I dream a thousand “if only” dreams
and cry myself awake.
Eyes swollen.
Dreams deferred.
Continually reaching...grasping
How does one take hold of the wind?
So many times, I’ve misinterpreted happiness.
And with every disappointment
I struggle to survive.
I feel the rope tighten as I’m dragged further away from the light.
I curse this condition!
I dig my nails deeper into the earth
and fight to stay on the path to happiness.
But each minute is just like the last.
In conclusion, nothing is concluded.
I’m left unsure if I will ever experience true happiness.

Lies

Girl With A Gun

I see the fear in your eyes
Surprise!
Did you expect me to be
One who would fall so easily?
Unsuspecting and meek
Thoughtless and weak
Please!
That’s not me.
I’m a girl with a gun.
And I come packing heat.
My Saturday-night special is 7 days a week
The piece that I keep is my ability to perceive.
And with my moral excellency,
You can’t fool me
I’m a confident Black queen
So bow down and believe
That my bullet is my brain
I’m not hard to ascertain
Just respect me
Protect me
And don’t try to sex me
L'est you get shot down
Ka-boom!
I'll make you look like a clown
With my intellect
And grace
As well as my faith
I’m a lady, a prize
It’s time to recognize
That my weapon of choice
Is not a Nine or a GAT
It’s my strength and my voice
If you treat me with love
I will treat you the same
But if you come playing games
It's lights out!
Game over!
Poof - You'll be gone!
My words will prove you a fool
Your lies I will detect
So please come correct
I'm a girl with a gun
And I demand much respect.

Words

More Than A Mother

I remember the day that I realized
That inside of me was the mark of God.
A tiny little miracle about the size of a pod
The kind that only our love
And our heavenly Father could have created.
I couldn’t wait to tell you.
I was so elated.
For 9 months I housed this sensation,
This beautiful representation of love
that would eventually become our son.
I was full with him.
I felt his love.
And I know that deep inside
He felt mine.
Then he was born.
And like a ship sailing off in the horizon
You were gone.
You slowly disappeared.
You were defeated by fear.
Your responsibilities were disposable…in your mind.
You went missing,
You were blind.
You discarded this diminutive illustration
Of innocence and perfection.
Even though he was a reflection of you.
Every little boy needs his father.
And most fathers need their sons.
But you decided to run.
And because you weren’t around
I became more than a mother!
Every time he cried
I sung an extra lullaby
And became more than a mother!
When he needed a hug,
I held him a little tighter.
I was more than a mother!
When he was sick I never left his side.
When he was scared,
I chased away the trepidation.
I was more than a mother!
When I am tired I play with him twice as long.
His laughter is medicine that strengthens my mind.
His smile is like the sunshine.
We have faced hundreds of hardships
But your absence makes me stronger.
And although I could never be a father
My love is everlasting,
Permanent,
Long-Term.
This title I have earned
And I carry it with pride.
I am more than a mother!

Neglected Whispers

When a child cries out for help and no one is around,
Does it echo to the heavens or does it not make a sound?
Our disregarded children are like whispers in the night.
Fighting to be heard in a world suffused with strife.
The hopelessness of whispers falling idle on deaf ears,
Breeds bitterness and heartache,
Provoking poverty and tears.
Decimation threatens those with a faded voice.
We must grant neglected whispers new reasons to rejoice.
To give them wings of angles will inspire them to soar.
Let’s transform neglected whispers into songs of mighty roars.

Waiting For My Coffee

I’ve been waiting for my stimulant to come and stimulate me
The color of dark brown African coffee beans
I’ll wrap my hands gently around the warmth of my roast
And do tricks with my lips as I bring it in close
I will consume my tasty coffee to the very last drop
Serve it up high to the very tip top
I want to melt in its darkness, like sugar so sweet
And drink all the goodness until I start to feel the heat
Salivating at the thought…overflowing with desire
The very first sip sets my soul on fire
I like my coffee Black, extra hot, and double strong
I’ve been waiting for my coffee for far too long.

Lit

Staring into the fireplace through
crimson colored eyes
unconvinced they’ve been reddened
by Champagne,
most likely tinted by my tears.
Intoxicated by the cocktails,
but poisoned completely by adaptations
of love.
I’m alone and lovesick,
consumed by pain
and beset with anger.
Tenaciously I try to drink it all away
And while my levels are on high
I begin to doodle
his name
100 times…
200 times…
Like a child being punished at a chalkboard,
Over and over
until my fingers ache,
And my heart bleeds;
I’m drowning in the blood of sorrow,
sobbing uncontrollably
and wishing that I could die.
I view my frenzied artwork,
and then toss it into the blaze
I become a spectator
Watching as he burns in hell
In between the crackling and the pops
I can hear his dismal cries,
Asking for the mercy he never gifted to my heart.
The flames rage on
soothing this agonizing moment.
As memories of him dance hypnotically in the glow,
I stagger away
and pour myself another drink.

Splendid Isolation

Peacefully I stare out my window, watching nothing
as life goes on outside these walls.
These walls...impervious and unyielding,
were forged from fragments of my crippled spirit
and are greater than the sum of their parts.
Inside, I live in splendid isolation.
Every pain I ever felt,
every tear I ever shed
has evaporated like mist.
Defeated by love and life my shadow is my only companion.
I’ve plotted carefully and removed all methods of entry
as my heart is an unpredictable foe.
Splendid isolation is love’s replacement and my safe haven.
Never again will I need.
Never again will I love nor loose.
I will remain here, in splendid isolation, clinging to the security of being alone.

He Became An Angel: In Memory of Melvin L. Reid

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16


He had a disease,
That could have been cured,
If others knew what he endured.
Chemically imbalanced,
Mentally impaired.
Will God forgive abstruse despair?
He suffered too much
And left too soon.
On a cold December afternoon,
A single bullet, his Angel of Grace
As scarlet tears ran down his face,
He became an angel.


What I believe:
Once you are saved your sins are forgiven past, present and future!
Rest in peace, Cuz

You Can't Out Run Yourself

You've been running forever
From city to city.
For miles and miles.
Running from love
Running from pain.
Anonymity has seduced you as you run
from burning memories.

You can't out run yourself.

Insistently you've run,
feeling the pain in every step.
Escaping commitments,
Avoiding responsibility,
Leaving behind footprints in the sand
that fade away like dreams that never were.
No real roots.
No real home.

You can't out run yourself.

The mask you wear is old and worn.
Your tears are exposed and flow like a river,
taking you deeper into the waters of
solitude and sadness.
The time has come to confront who you are.
Let acceptance be your freedom.
And allow the light of love to guide your footsteps.

You can't out run yourself.

I Am 01-17-13

I am fragile and weary.
I wonder if I will ever feel powerful again.
I hear my heart breaking a little more every day.
I see sadness.
I want to be fearless.
I am fragile and weary.

I pretend that I have it all together.
I feel like I'm drowning when I'm lying in my bed.
I touch peacefuly.
I worry about about family.
I cry when I fail.
I am fragile and weary.

I understand that God gives me strength.
I say that I believe, but sometimes I do not.
I dream of my transition.
I try to be a good person.
I hope that one day, I feel nothing.
I am fragile and weary.

Time

I've been robbed and betrayed.

Yesterday called itself today

and I have become a victim of time.

Time is a cruel culprit.

It's left me empty and exhausted.

The promise of tomorrow was a mirage

that disappeard into the air like vapor.

Memories of words unspoken drift away

like flower petals dancing carelessly in the wind.

Pretty pictures remain framed on my mantal

but the face in the mirror has changed.

As the pendulum swings,

I've lost who I wanted to be.

I’ve been robbed by the good thief

called time.

Words Are Power!

In My Dreams, I Run (a short story)

My name is Travis and I am 10 years old. I was born with a disease called Cerebral Palsy. I can not walk and I can not talk. I can not do the things that most other kids my age can do. But in my dreams, I run.
Every Saturday afternoon my mother takes me to the park. Today, I saw a squirrel run past us as it chased another squirrel up a tree. The unexpected activity caused Mom to jump which made me giggle uncontrollably. The warmth of the summer's sun made my face and arms tingle. I really enjoy going to the park with my mother. As she pushed me in my wheelchair I could see other kids laughing and having fun on the merry-go-round, see saw, and sliding board. In the distance, there was a little girl rolling around in the grass as she played with a frisky tan and white puppy. Then, right in front of us, there was a little boy wearing a red baseball cap like the one my grandpa gave me. As we passed him by, he tugged at his mother's shirt sleeve and pointed in our direction. She nodded as if she didn't know what to say. He soon lost interest and then ran over to the monkey bars to play with some other boys and girls. Why didn't his mother tell him that it's rude to point at people just because they are different?
As she often does, my mother bent over and kissed me on my forehead as we continued over to the swings. Once there, she took me out of my wheelchair and held me in her lap. With one hand she held on to the chain and with the other, she held on to me. I felt safe in her arms. I closed my eyes and relaxed as the breeze caressed my face. We swung and swung until the colors of the blue sky turned shades of orange and pink like the flowers in our backyard. I knew that meant that it was time to go home.
Once home, Mom started getting me ready for bed. Bedtime is my favorite time of the day. Tonight, my mother gave me a warm bath, put me in my batman pajamas and we cuddled as she read me a story. Sometimes she falls asleep next to me. But tonight she tucked me in, kissed me on my forehead and whispered "Good night Sweet pea".
Before I fell asleep completely, I could hear her crying in the other room. She wants to take my pain away. I want to take away her pain too.
Soon, all is quiet and Mom is asleep. I crawl out of my bed, and I begin to run.
I run out the front door and down the street. The light from the stars hides the darkness and in my mind, it is daylight again.
I run back to the park and I do all the things I could not do before.
I run.
I see the little girl and her puppy. He tries to chase me but I am too fast for him!
I run.
Up the front of the sliding board I go as if I had wings! Then I run to the monkey bars. The little boy in the red baseball cap is still there. I challenge him to a race. "Catch me if you can" I said, as I run!
I run so fast and I run so far that no one catches me.
I run, and I run, and I run. Faster and faster. Away from everything that has ever scared me and from everyone who’s ever made me feel sad.
I run.
My batman pajamas now have a cape that whips in the wind!
I run.
All the way back home into my waiting mother's arms. I wipe away her tears and we laugh and we laugh. She kisses me on my forehead and says: "Good morning Sweet pea, it's time to wake up."
Tomorrow has come and today is just like yesterday. I can not walk and I can not talk but it doesn't matter in the slightest. My mother takes care of me and makes me feel loved. I wish I could tell her that I love her too. She prays for me every night and she asks God to make me whole. Little does she know that every night in my dreams, He does!

Sorrow

Felicity weeps.
then fades away.
Lost,
Alone,
Led astray.
In dark abyss,
A tempest looms.
The root of
angst,
fear,
and gloom.
Sorrow calls.
And I come.
Too haggard now to run.