A letter to survivors
https://thesoulspoet.com/2016/10/24/a-letter-to-survivors-it-never-gets-old/
— Read on thesoulspoet.com/2016/10/24/a-letter-to-survivors-it-never-gets-old/
A necessary post. Sending gentle hugs to all those strong enough to ask for help.
Those who survive trauma suffer a great deal beyond the traumatic events they endured. They also struggle with anxiety, depression, Post Traumatic …
A Message For Trauma Survivors
All six of my children have been detrimentally affected by the lies told, and their potential robbed by the rapists in our family. It is 2022 and more lies are being revealed.
My goal is to leave a record of the truth. I am determined that my linage will know the truth, I will continue to trust the guidance of my ancestors to lay a foundation that is built on the truth however brutal. There is still more to do. But the healing for our ancestors is continuing as we dig deeper and pull up the rotten roots to repair the damage.
I wrote this poem in January, 1999 for the brother we lost to alcoholism. He was 36. Now 2011 we could lose another brother to alcoholism. He just turned 37. They both drank for the same reasons but we pretend it is not happening. We are as Sick as our Secrets and ours are killing us.
I am grateful for the work I started in 2011 by committing to therapy. I am continuing with creating the family tree on ancestry and getting my DNA analyzed.
finally brother you can rest
in this world you no longer stay
we must accept that god
has taken you away
no longer do you plead for love
from a world grown cold
we did not get to see you grow old
but now you are free
you don’t have to hurt any more
finally brother you can rest
no need to cry or feel blue
one day we will join you
your soul has taken flight
you are smiling at the sight
of angels welcoming you
into peace, finally brother, rest
01/1999 by mozayik
Silence is deadly. We may be silent but our sick secrets are exposed for all to see. When a man drinks himself to death it is not happenstance. Some of us use drink, food, drugs or sex to abuse or addiction. It is self medicating to ease PAIN.
For the last week or so I have been contemplating why my family continues to pretend everything is okay. Another brother will be lost if we continue to sweep things under the rug. I feel so helpless to save him. I don’t think I can look anyone in the eyes again without saying “we have to stop this shit now”.
I want to ask my mother “How long will you continue to lie? How many of us have to die? Free us and tell the truth, please.”
I am tired of the superficial relationships. If we are not free to speak our truth in love then it is all a waste of time. There was a time when all I wanted was revenge. I was hurting, so I wanted the “perpetrators” to hurt. That position did not serve me well and the poison of anger was killing me. Once I sought my own healing I saw things differently.
My only motive now is to facilitate healing and stop others from being hurt.
Only LOVE can heal us. I realize that people have reasons why they do the things they do. The people who hurt us have been harmed by someone and the vicious cycle is repeated over and over because of silence. I am telling my story. I refuse to be quiet.
Amazing me
I am amazing
I am loving me so much lately
I have overcome so many obstacles
I have had to make some hard choices
I have grieved what was
I am moving forward with new goals
I did not give up
I am proud of me for my tenacity
I am a strong warrior
I accept sometimes the soldier needs help
just because I took another route
does not make me a failure
it says I am courageous enough to move toward the unknown
I had faith in God
I believed my efforts would be rewarded
I am amazing
when I think of my resilience,
my ability to bounce back to love
I know I am beautiful
by mozayik “the souls’ poet
circa 2005
*Disclaimer* I wrote this before healing. My view still remains the same except, before healing, white people were easy targets. That is not right. It is how I felt.
where is this place with limited space
this demon has rode my back before
how many times will I let it ride
I am getting so tired
do I have to change me
for you to let me be
I am misunderstood
I never thought I would
be here again
thought I had grown above this
I need relief quick
when will I take a stand
get me a plan
and proceed beyond this
time to make choices again
between darkness and your face
I need to stand on faith
believe in myself
why am I required to reinvent me
to be what others want
conforming to their needs
fitting into their plan
molding me to be whatever suits them
I need to eat
but I cannot breathe
with your hands around my neck
choking out anything that doesn’t resemble you
things you’re uncomfortable with
offensive to you
because they make you see your own ugly
get your foot off my back
why are you trying to stomp out the glaring reality
of what you are
you pretend to be a star
but inside you epitomize darkness
take your fingers out of my eyes
you can’t put out my light
or take out my fight to continue to be me
you failed to realize that I am a proud black woman
you thought I was from the school of yes sir massa
whatever you say I will do
you thought my life and livelihood depended on you
I hope now you recognize, that I am not the one
to bow down unto you as if you bring up the sun
couldn’t you tell by the look in my eyes
that I was not going for your lies
I smiled and laughed at your tired ass jokes
because my mama taught me how to be polite
you thought because I worked so hard
much harder than any white
that you could walk on me
use me up and expect me to shut up and put up
now you see what I really am
and your fear makes you retaliate
whether conscious or unconsciously
you think you deserve the best
and then you throw me your scrapes
on, on and on
not this black woman
the breath I breathe and the very life I live
was not a sorry gift from you
I know now you are just too through with me
I am making you get a glimpse of your ugly
and all this time you call yourself white
when your heart full of hateful superior intentions is black as night
because I speak up for myself and still do my work you are confused
you thought I had that slave mentality
when I called you on your racism to your face
told me I was out of place
you obviously do not recognize
that my place is in your face
anytime you flaunt your race as better than mine
it shocked you when I wouldn’t conform
rejected your standard of beauty
and strutted my own
your questions and remarks were ridiculous
do I wash my hair
do you wash your ass is what I should have asked
because it was smelling from all those lies
and pasted on smiles
don’t you get tired
of playing like you smart
are you ever going to get tired
of claiming everything you got
from the sweat and strength of our backs
I worked hard cause that is what is in me
I do not need you to be strong
you saw to that
the survival of the fittest is where I am from
the cream of the crop
top of the line
can’t get no better than this
that is why you are always trying to impress
me with your red burnt tan and curly hair
if I am so bad why are you trying my flair
don’t you see I do not care
how much you try to be like me
cause you will never ever be me
I am from royal blood
my ancestors numbered the stars
your heritage is so weak that you rob others and call it yours
you say columbus discovered america
how can you come into my house and claim it as yours
and then take my people and build it up with our blood
your ancestry is perverted
why are you so shocked that this country is so violent
oooing and ahhing when your children shoot up each other
is not that what you have taught them
when you cannot get others to do what you want
with manipulation and lies, all the time smiling
you kill them
is not that how america was built
not beautiful but profane
still trying to convince us that god
has shed her grace on this mess
where the good at so I can be the first
to crown them with brotherhood
from filthy polluted sea to filthy polluted sea
by mozayik the souls’ poet
1999
But I won’t let pain get in my way.
There is still a lot to say
so, again I write.
Writing is my saving grace.
Without her I would give up running this race.
My lips and tongue betray me.
My eyes mock me, I can’t see,
but, again I write.
Braces on my hands, wraps around my knees,
thunder and lightning cloaked in 100 degrees.
I’ll let nothing stop me, because I believe
I was born to write.
Writing for me is breathing.
Take my paper and my pen,
turn out the lights tie my hands,
In my mind
I write again………
by mozayik the souls’ poet
I’ve fought all my life
Coming here backward after 64 hours of labor
was a glimpse of my fight
I came feet first
I was born fighting
There have been times when I didn’t want to fight
But because I am fight
I fought
Again, and again
I fought
I have fought for rights
Fought for love
Fought for and with my words
I have fought for children that nobody wanted
There has been infighting
Out fighting with only two of us
I’ve kicked down doors with my fight
Been speaking my piece to gain peace with my fight
My fight has won tons of progress
I fight for the ones that don’t have any fight
They can count on me to fight
I stopped fighting one day
I tried to keep the fight at bay
It did not work
God called me to fight
so, I fought again once more
I fought the professor along with the university,
making them see my invisible disability
I have fought directors, presidents, public officials,
doctors, lawyers, even religious individuals
Shit, I have fought anybody telling me no
Growing up all I saw was fight
Fight to smile
Fight to keep the tears away
Save those tears to fuel the fight another day
I am going to keep on fighting
by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’
2.21.19
I wrote this poem when healing from narcissistic abuse. My therapist asked me the question, “Who was your first narcissist?” This is the epiphany.
I kept marrying my mother
Over and over, I begged her to love me
To hold me, laugh with me, instead of mocking me
She abandoned me and I never knew
When or if I would ever see her again
So over and over I begged her to love me
To hold me and never let me go
I kept marrying my mother over and over
The all behaved just like her
Intently looking for places to dagger me to death
The buildup, the let down
Lying on me so the story sounds
true for those in the neighborhood
I am gifting, finally
My permission to hate who you were
I will take that hate and transmute it to self-love
Accepting
It is not me
My guilt was that I destroyed my children
Because it was so hard to be a mother
When the first time I can remember
she abandoned me when I was three
she called me a murderer to hide her degradation
I was scapegoated while she lied on me continuously
This is why, I keept sacrificing everything
Begging her to love me
the same narcissistic cycle
my brain was programmed that way
narcissists loved bomb me without apology or acknowledgement
of the blood drawn from my soul
I was the best ever
Until they got cold
After that, I wasn’t shit
I just waited until
I was the bomb diggity again
Soon we would be out on display again
Outside the doors life was grand
Within those walls though
Your ass was a (female dog)
3.14.2020.9.50a
I was torn between being a good Christian and a good citizen.
Wanting to please God but needing to protect myself.
That was the dichotomy of my faith.
“If he wants you the bible says you must stay until he doesn’t.”
My faith was being tested, that is what pastor said.
My question to pastor?
How do you love someone that has left you black and blue?
How do you love the you that allows the abuse?
Mama said shame on you if let them hit you twice,
the first time should be enough.
Mama never talked about the fight or flight into myself.
In my crib I was programmed for trauma bonding.
I became addicted to the rush of chemicals from my own brain
as she participated in the disdain of herself
only to allow it to happen again.
I was wired to repeat the cycle of pain
God forgives
But a price must still be paid for the abuse.
Charges should be brought against all perpetrators.
The pain they cause not only break our hearts,
it leaves a stain upon our image of self.
Now we understand.
We can get some help.
#GirlGetYouSomeHelp
By Zuri Savage
8.8.2021.10.13a
Karma is not a bitch. Karma is sweet. Karma is fair.
She will give you what you deserve.
About your feelings she doesn’t care.
She will pay you in love.
If that is what you reap.
Sowing seeds of love and positivity
will keep you out of the path of Karma’s negative proclivity.
Karma will be your friend, until you make her your enemy.
Whether you acknowledge her or not
she will bite that ass no doubt.
It is an absolute guarantee.
See, me and Karma go way back,
to a time when I did not know
or respect
her affect.
I finally woke up when my love debt was past due.
I had burned too many bridges,
so, a reckoning with Karma I had to do.
That changed my views.
Everyone will get what they are due,
no matter your hue.
Now?
I love every day my very best.
I am reaping love in abundance, cause I let go of judgments.
No more right or wrong.
I am living the moments of my life’s song.
I have created a life in love for myself.
Now?
My journey is filled with valley blessings.
I am receiving my wealth in love that Karma has dispensed.
by Mozayik “the souls’ poet” © 61917
The Souls' Poet 