I'm lost. And I'm found. I am. And I'm not.
I'm in that inbetween place.
I want to speak in poetic rhymes.
I want to leave my mind behind.
And fix my heart.
I stand strong, when I'm at my weakest. I smile, when I want to cry. I hold on, when everyone else is letting go. I love...even when he can't see me.
I need many things. I want many things. I need the people I wrote to, to write me back. I need the interaction, the connection, some comfort. But they have their own lives. I get too far embedded in other people's lives. I'm there too much. Because now I'm empty. And how do I ask them to step away from their lives to enter mine? To be with me? Like I'm entitled to that? Maybe I am. They love me. Care about me. But do they need me?
I'm hurting. This is my place right now. Where I exist. Whatever the reason. Whatever I choose to do about it, this is how I feel right now.
"I loved you on purpose.
I was open on purpose."
(from 'For Colored Girls')
I always give my all, when I believe. Maybe that was my mistake, believing. But I wasn't the only one. I lost, again. He broke my heart...and he doesn't even know. There are reasons why I don't tell. There are reasons why I chose to let go and move on. Not for him, not to give something to him. But for me.
I gave. I was there. I was there.
"My love is too beautiful to have thrown back on my face."
I'm better than this. I'm miles ahead. I'm not inadequate. I didn't fail. I didn't destroy it. I was good. I did so well. It just didn't happen. But I know my worth now. All those who walked away lost me. They messed up. I would have been good for them. I know it. Good to them.
You can't do better than me.
But I can do better than you.
I can't wait for that. For things to work itself out. For help to come. I can't count on anyone. I wish I could. But wishes...
No one will be there to save me. I have to save myself. But how do you save yourself when you no longer have the strength?
"And this is for Colored girls who have considered suicide, but are moving to the ends of their own rainbows."
These are the kind of days when it's unbearable to be here. In this house, in this city. I can't get out. There's so much I have to do before I can get out. Before I can be me again. I'm doing my best. One day at a time. Hiding away, staying silent to save myself. I did once. I can't promise I can do it again. But every ounce of me is willing to try.
I feel...hopeless. But hope doesn't want to leave. Is my destiny my own? Or is it all mapped out? Who controls it? God protects me. He helps me and comforts me. Sends people to me. And takes them away? Does He allow the situations that break me down? Or is His only concern with bringing me back up? A lot of it is human nature, I believe. Freedom of choice. We choose what path we walk down, we choose how we treat others, what we push away and what we hold onto. Choices. Our heart, our head. But that's how I see the world.
I'm doing my best. I'm grateful for the things I have and I'm proud of myself for doing good for others.
I don't know what the future holds. Or how much of a future I have left. No one really does. And you can't say I haven't tried hard or conquered my fears. I've done a lot. Been through my share of bad times. I can say, "I've been through worse" or "I've been called worse." And it would be true. People assume, but they don't know. And I will say a lot if pushed.
Writing makes me feel better. It's therapy. And music too. The best kind.
But life is complicated. Sometimes what heals you has the power to hurt you. And so, you survive.
