Welcome Readers, It is not an easy transition into a grown woman from a girl. But I manage. I’m succeeding my womanhood, individuality, and essence to make the best of what I call “my life”. Everything is everything. I am everything but a lot of things are not me. No, I am not the most perfect person in the world but I know who is: God. Sometimes I seem to think that I am too much of a woman. Why? Because I bare and yield all good fruit that humanity should feed from, but not all human beings aim for the fresh, sweet fruit. I have yet to find the match to my peach. I can live without the superficial, and only require what’s deeply real I’m no short talker, but more of a big dreamer. I mean what I say and I say what I mean. I live by it; my words are heavily bonded to my heart….. I’m much of a lover with a substantial heart--- a heart that is teaching me to be kind, patient, and loving all over again----every day. At times, I think I need a new one, because I love so deep.
Popular posts from this blog
PAD Challenge Day 30: Write a goodbye poem. The Transition The hardest goodbye was holding my father's warm hand for the last time. After he reached for me, he called out the angels by name in the room. He shared his last words the night before. Something like, "They are waiting. I'm sorry, I can't stay. I'm sorry you can't go, but I promise to come back for you." The morning after, everything was silent, even the bird outside the window that watched me during the final hours. The only music to my ears was the ventilator, the dropping blood pressure, and the c-pap machine. I rather play the Motown music he requested the night before just so that he could sing to me and smile a smile that mirrors mine again. Or talk about the wedding that he wanted to pay for and dance at with me to Run DMC in classic, fresh Addidas. He even said, "Only one of my brothers or your brother can give you away. If you have children,
I thought of putting it down forever. The ink. The lead. Forever. Forever, I thought about not writing again. But I can’t stop. It is my niche. A home beyond comfort and solitude. My first love. My passion. My high. My pride. My freedom. How can I let go when my heart and my mind goes on? And the good thoughts keep coming along until I run out of paper… Then I thought…I thought…….. I thought of how each word painted my essence. I thought of how each word spoke my mind out loud to the world, for the world to understand me as: A black woman. An African-American. A legacy. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A lover. A fighter. A teacher. A student. A leader. A survivor. A queen. A dreamer. These words made me into the woman I am today. They built me. I am strong. I am beautiful. I am phenomenal because of the ink, the lead, the paper, a million good thoughts, and the mentality my creator birth me with. I've notice what I've became. And I am already acknowledg