Category: conqueror

A letter to survivors

A letter to survivors

A letter to survivors


— 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.

Fight is my middle name

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

Fight is my middle name

by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’

2.21.19

Why I Did it.

Some have asked, “Yvette why did you do it?”

My answer, I did it because I wanted to.

I did it because it needed to be done.

Somebody had to do it.

F that mess about keeping our business in our house.

That is precisely why I did it,

it was time out for letting abusers get away with it.

It was time out for others controlling the narrative about my life.

It had to be done.

Why should I have walked around in shame?

Why should I have hidden the marks placed on my body

by someone that said they loved me?

Why should I have worn long sleeves so I would not be ashamed

when people asked how that happened?

Was I supposed to walk around in secrecy

trying to cover up your indecency?

Hell no, I did it because it had to be done.

It was time out for people getting away with hurting me.

I did it for all the girls and boys that went to sleep weeping

because they could not speak their truth.

I did it so you would suffer the shame that you threw.

I threw it back at you

and all those that thought they got away with hurting others.

I did it so you would get help,

or crawl into a hole and leave us good people alone.

Be gone or get some help.

I did it because I needed to be sure we were through.

I did it because I wanted to.

The same way you wanted to hurt me.

But I was not trying to hurt.

I did it so a way could be paved.

So someone would have courage to do what I did

I bet you thought this was about you.

Mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’

5.2.2021.12.29a

Sometimes you have to encourage yourself

MAKE A CHOICE TODAY TO BELIEVE IN YOU

Give in to the belief that you are unique

with talents and gifts all your own

No one can do it like you

No one but you can make your dream come true

Whatever mistakes we make are only a tool

To purge and cut to help make us rule

Better we  learn from them and move on

Don’t wallow in self pity and doubt

Use your errors as a spring board to break out

Bounce back to the positive

Give in to the belief that you are someone special

Grab it, take hold of it and don’t let it go

Speak it, Chant it, Pray it,

 Say it until you’ve convinced your own soul

You are SOMEBODY for the world to behold

Black Woman Walking with ptsd

I had a panic attack. I was afraid to leave my apartment. I cried, I prayed and I grabbed my box cutter, mace, gloves, mask and sanitizing wipes. I reminded myself that “I AM NOT MY FEELINGS” I went out and got my medicine because no one was coming to save me. I prayed that I would not be stopped by the police because they may not understand that I had to take the weapons to protect myself. They may think that I mean to harm them or they may use it as an excuse to kill me. All kinds of thoughts run through your head when you are a black woman living alone with ptsd.

I look back on 2020 and know that it was God that I held on to me, otherwise I never would have made it. I would have lost my mind, y’all know the rest of the song.

Thank God for therapy or else I probably would have just lay there and kept crying. This pandemic, the isolation, losing people that I love, and living alone with the constant uncertainty is starting to get to me. I am just keeping it real.

Crying helped me to release my emotions because I know that I am not my feelings so the sooner I face the fear and let it go the better.

BUT, I am exhausted from the unrelenting battle with fear. I am not paranoid. I have valid reasons to be afraid to step outside my front door. I was brutally beaten in the streets in July. I saw the man in my neighborhood again and he recognized me.

I came here to live because I was fleeing a domestically violent partner. I was unemployed and living in my daughters basement. They were the first people to give me a lease. I figured I would get in and get out but I had no idea what was about to happen.

I have been trying to move but the manager where I live is a Narcissistic  a-hole that has it in for me because I wanted to start a tenant associations to address the horrific conditions she expects people to live in.

One example is allowing raw sewage to run through the parking lot while people walked through it and took it back into the buildings during the Coronavirus Pandemic. I reported it and forced her hand with other things so every time I apply somewhere else she lies and says that I have bogus lease violations. It is a very long story.

I have a good job and I don’t want to live here anymore but she thinks she is making good on her threat that if I sue her “I wont have any place to live.” God is still in control though especially since I have done nothing wrong by trying to help improve our living conditions.

I know that I am not the only one going through things. I am just telling my little story. I am tired of Covid-19, tired of racism, tired of white people not getting, that, WE BEEN TIRED. Tired of fighting for the basic right to feel like I matter.

We are supposed to be celebrating the legacy of Dr. King but now we live in a world where Hatred is at an all-time high. It is all very disheartening. I know I will survive. I always do, but I need a f***ing break.

#AnAfricanAmericanWomanWithPTSD

from your mama

you had to learn that life is not fair

play by the unjust rules or lose

they set you up just to tear you down

whatever goes around comes around

there are some things we can’t change

some things we cannot manipulate

try as we may

there really is a thing called fate

destiny if you believe

the universe is under God’s control

take a minute to think about it

the earth keeps turning

the sun forever shines

the moon revolves around us

and birds always chirp

summer comes, winter goes

trees bud each and every spring

it rains when the heavens declare it should

nothing we can do to stop it

if we could just trust in the universal laws

the world keeps turning but we don’t fall

plant a seed deep in the ground and watch it grow

from a tiny seed to a mighty tree

stop, think about it for a minute

if we would just believe

it’s hard when all around us we see injustice

every day they try to take our dignity

but you are in control ultimately

of what you let them plant in your soul

take the good, plant it in you

can’t find it out there in the world

find it in yourself

nurture goodness and peace

it will grow inside your soul

you really do reap what you sow

tell them go ahead hate me

because I believe in justice and equality

but one day just like a seed

I’ll grow into a mighty tree

I’ll be a power to be reckoned with

I held onto what I believed

I didn’t let you plant your seeds of negativity in me

I became responsible made good choices

held on steadfastly to the belief that

what I put out there is what I’ll receive

by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’ 1997

for Melisa when things were hard

Fear is Ilusion

2 Timothy 1:7 KJV

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

I am no longer comfortable using the word fear or the word afraid. The other day I told my daughter that I was not coming out because I was afraid of coming out after dark. Fear feeds anxiety.

Because I have been given a sound mind and because of the love I have for my own wellbeing I am empowered by the spirit of god that lives in me to make a wise decision and protect myself. There are many rational reasons why it is not wise for me an African American Woman to go out alone in the dark during these unprecedented times.

From now on I will to be focused on the fact that because of the spirit of God that lives in me I do not have to fear anything.

Fear is illusion. Trusting God requires fearlessness.

#INeededThatLesson

Positive Funk

Positive Funk

is where you go to work on self
you can’t take anyone along
funky place in your spirit
filled with your own bittersweet song

you don’t mind staying funky for a while
cause you know there won’t be a crowd
they don’t understand you see
about this  funky place you be

but you very well comprehend
this positive funk you are in
this funk is a good funk
the kind that builds you up

you don’t smell this
you feel it
you welcome the enriching experience
don’t share  it
cause you couldn’t if you wanted to
it’s designed just for you

it’s too funky for your loved ones
so they just let you do what you gotta do
this funky place is fertile ground
where all the seeds of life are growing
you’ll find pride, greed and all the  negative emotions

but be patient cause positivity will soon be flowing
shortly you’ll see the love peace and contentment
that this place is grooming
when you come out you’ll be smelling like a rose

positive funk produces a unique kind of knowing
that after the thunder, lightning and stormy rains of life
things are clean and fresh smelling
after digging deep into the dirty issues of life
wallowing in the mud of pain and strife
looking at yourself and all your ugly ways

positive funk will produce
a brand new you on a whole new level
you’ll be aware of all the pitfalls
that took you to this stinking valley

this funk is positive because of the result
if you desire to be the best
you must look at your own funky shit
then I bet you’ll figure out what’s best for you

you’ll be renewed, refreshed
and have a new constitution
telling everybody it’s because of
positive funk your life had a revolution

by mozayik “the souls’ poet”

erroneous core belief #1

I had a core belief that I did not deserve to be treated well. Of course, this is an expected response to abandonment, neglect, rape, and abuse. How else was my psyche able to allow this assault on my person, on my innocent soul?

It killed my healthy self-image. Convinced me that, I, the victim deserved this because I was bad and nobody cared. I had been programmed to expect to be traumatized.

I was guilty of not being enough. I was guilty of everything that had ever happened to me. I was guilty of ruining everybody’s life. I was fucking guilty if I did not buy the right toothpaste.

guilty felt normal

grandma said my mother did not want me

so I was guilty of being a burden

guilty of being unwanted

guilty of needing love

guilty of not adequately paying the debt I owed

for  never being enough  no matter how hard I tried

mother said I was crazy cause Mamie j  raised me

after she abandoned me

it was my grandmothers fault for doing

what my mother did not

I was not enough to be kept

I was not enough for her to love me unconditionally

so I kept running into the arms that made me

feel like my mother

so I could one day be enough for her to love me

but just like my mother

they abused and abandoned

they were narcissistic just like she

but that was then

now my boundaries abound

I see the  truth of who I am

I no longer need trauma bonding

my trauma brain synapses are rewired

the holes in my soul are filled with self-love

by mozayik thesoulspoet.com

5.5.2020.1.33p

 

 

 

I finally killed George.

Healing is amazing. The man that raped me at 5 was named George. Before therapy anytime I heard the name George I would immediately be transported in my mind to him raping me. So I avoided George at all times. If I overheard the name I had to put my armor on. Without even knowing it that name had the power to send me to my bed for days.

Where I work the Fitness Instructor’s name is George. We were in an African performing arts group in the late ’90s together but I knew him by another name then.

I do believe that my steps are divinely ordered.  I believe this situation was tailor-made for me. When I first heard his name I did not run home to my bed. I don’t even think I recognized it as a past trigger.

Because he worked there his name was called out frequently. I would sometimes give George a ride home. On one occasion he asked me to take him to Walmart and then we would go to lunch, his treat. Well, the place “he” had chosen objectified women. I felt uncomfortable because of the staff’s attire. Most people’s bra and panties have more coverage than these young women were wearing.

He started going on about someone he knew really liked asses. I stopped him mid-story and told him that I did not objectify women. After that, I had to set some clear boundaries with George. The women at work say he was testing me. I stopped being chummy with him.

George had a stroke. Every day now his name is called out by people asking how he is doing. I am the person at the front desk. I am usually the one giving an update about his progress.

The George that raped me at five is dead to me now.

I have become desensitized to that name. Flashbacks, nightmares, and hypervigilance caused by George are a thing of the past.

This is what healing feels like.

The George that raped me at 5 was murdered in prison. I don’t know this to be true but my memory is that my Father got the word out that he had raped his little girl and they killed him.

Before therapy, he was still alive for me. I wanted to kill him so badly. I thought that it was unfair that he was dead. I was angry because I could not make him suffer.

As I write this I take deep breaths and release any residual energy still tied to that event in my life. I made it to the promised land of happiness.

Ding Dong George is Dead, Finally.