“ I do believe that your life is sort of a dying of self” — Viola Davis, Oprah +Viola ~ A netflix special event.
We are all born from a male and female DNA.
No these arent words to start an equality debate nor to fill our voids with sadness nor hate. It is a simplified observation as to smilarities yet to others i cant relate.
We are all created in the same way yet so compound and intricate that the biological characteristics fall short to the reality of life. From as young as I can remember I craved love.
I close my eyes, it looks warm. I squeeze myself, it feels warm. I clean my ears, its warming. I press my lips, it taste like home.
Odd those feelings, for how am I able to so vividly experience something I craved but never caught? I was born out of spite what a terrible feeling. I was born out of spite, I say aloud as my heart is bleeding.
A father who had moved on, a mother with child to hold on. I wasnt wanted!
God must have a sense of humor, the bible says honor thy father… but who is he. God must be a magician to give me a task that couldnt be. Honor thy mother, it says once or twice, but why would God bring me into this world out of spite.
As I pray to heal the parts of me that are untamed, I fall to my knees weak with shame. For I never even stood a chance, for I never even stood a chance. I was Angry at God sometimes I wonder if I still am. For how can I be made from a male and a female yet never said the words daddy, pops nor father.
How can I crave for love, when my parents had so much in between. Was the love so strong there was none left for me? Was the love so pure it would consume baby me? Was the love set to expire if got a bite, God was this the punchline when your born out of spite.
I searched for love in every face I encountered.
On my knees I pray, to help me heal. On my knees I begged to love me still. Not once, not twice for love was too many, not once, not twice for I didn’t get any!
I searched for love in every face I encountered.
So I learned to survive, or i’ll die every day. Living with abuse requires for me to unlearn the survival tactics that I call my personality. Living with neglect requires for me to unlearn the lack of hospitality.
I learned subtle ways of begging for love, I learned how to steal it like a thief. Always in control, only I can hurt me, continuous rejection doesn’t allow grief. Yes continuous rejection does not allow grief!
On my knees I pray to help me heal, on my knees I get to help me feel.
God must have a sense of humor. All I want is love yet all I get are rumors.
On my knees I pray, God I don’t want to feel. On my feet I stand as God tries to shield… the road of despair that leads me astray the broken-hearted girl that pushes love away.
If I stay in control, I wont be a joke, if I stay in control I wont miss when he spoke. If I stay in control ill keep repeating the lesson and that was the joke i confused for blessings.
On my knees I pray, God help me heal. Help me rise out of this pneumony. He whispers, Daughter, I am your father let me control the trial and watch it be your testimony.
Photocredit: https://art.alphacoders.com/arts/view/87286
