Tag: Peace

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

*****Shadows****

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 have held on to the idea that I could heal without forgiveness. It is what a therapist told me. I now know, at least for me, healing can be started without forgiveness, but it will not be complete without forgiveness of self.

Forgiving myself has been the hardest. I really thought I had forgiven a lot of people but if I have not truly forgiven myself how could it be true that I have forgiven others?

All month I have been quietly contemplating the things I need to let myself off the hook for. The past is a memory, and the future is imagination. I am learning how to live now.

 I forgive myself for thinking that I could really heal without forgiveness of myself first. I let go of hoping for a different outcome that is insanity and a total impossibility. The guilty seek punishment. I am not guilty. I have punished myself enough.

Now I can really be free of the past. It may appear I have prolonged my healing but all things in due time is what life has taught me. Only now is important. I release myself from the prison of unforgiveness so that the rest of my days on earth are heavenly. Anyway, that is what I wanted to say.

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

 

 

 

music is my lover

music is my drug of choice

my constant companion

through all of this terror

it saves me minute by minute from madness

I turn it off , it keeps playing

I get lost in thought,  it keeps swaying

soothing me with lyrics of the last song that wooed me

music touches my soul, my hair follicles, my toes

I start groving and the next thing I know

me and music are rocking and rolling

until I am totally holding

freedom

in the palms of my hands

my fingers keep poping

while I drop it like its hot

before I know it me and music are in love

and we ain’t to proud to show it

music is my lover

my drug of choice

call me a gleeful forever addict

i get high

so i can fly

away on my lyrical horses

above the noises

by mozayik ‘the souls’ poet’

circa 4.2020

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.

It is finished

I have not been promoting my book because that journey has ended. I don’t know where I would be without poetry. I was born a poet because that is what I needed to give voice to my pain. I bled onto the pages and it helped to heal me.

The poems in my book tell the story of my healing. It is amazing to me how clearly the poems actually chronologically portray my healing process.  The title was My Healing Journey and I actually published and printed the part of the book that was finished at that time in 2008.

My healing journey was not complete, though.  The book has gone from 48 pages to 80 pages. It seemed it would never be complete because every editing session triggered me.  I would spiral down into depression,  get into therapy and when I felt better or I allowed myself to be distracted I stopped therapy.  there were also other reasons I had to stop, like insurance or lack thereof.

The book became one of my biggest motivators to continue therapy.  I could clearly see my progress but also see where there was more work needed. I started to realize that my soul knew what I needed to heal. So I trusted it. It became apparent that the book would not get published or even completed until I healed. 

The book became a labor of self-love. It became my promise to God that I would give my gift at no cost. Writing is the tool or gift God has given me to heal myself and to heal others. It is better to give.

A therapist once told me that after I did the work to heal that I would be happier than I could imagine. I did not believe her but I had to try and see what the end was going to be. What did I have to lose? I had happiness to gain, so I  finally committed to therapy because being in pain became unbearable.

I got very serious about healing once I started having flashbacks. I had to face the fact that I suffered with PTSD.  As it is often said,  when the student is ready the teacher will appear. In January 2012 I was led to the YWCA where I spent over 3 years healing from childhood sexual abuse.

My therapist told me that I could be healed from PTSD and Fibromyalgia. She was right. It is true, that if you heal the mind you heal the body. Depression hurts.

I went over 3 years without therapy but the journey was not over. I still dealt with anxiety. Depression was and still is a thing of the past.  I still had to heal from domestic violence among other things that had left side effects.

I don’t regret any part of my journey. I am a powerhouse now for women that are healing or want to start healing.

I was born with a calling to tell women that they can be free from the pain that stops them from being all that they want to be. God has used me to pull women from the edge of the ledge. I am sure I could not even imagine how much God has used me to tell women they can be free.

So I regret nothing. I was called out to endure and heal to say, “Girl get you some help”.

This last year in therapy and the last domestic violence experience gave me valuable lessons.  Iyanla VanZant said, “There is value in the valley”. 2019  took my understanding of why I and many other women keep choosing the same type of person. We attract to us the people we need to heal. Sounds a little skewed but it is true. When we heal that part of ourselves we no longer need that situation to mirror our pain.

I have learned about things like Trauma bonding and The Trauma Brain and Narsacism as well as what it means to be an Empath. I count it all Joy. This information was essential for me to complete my journey to healing.

I decided ten years ago to take control of my life and make the necessary changes to have a better quality of life. I needed my children to be proud of me. I wanted them to see that Mama worked hard to get her shit together. I wanted to show not tell them that asking for help is a sign of strength and if you are willing to do the work you can change.

Now it is time to thrive. Now it is time to teach. Now is the time to reach even more women with the message, “I promise on the other side of healing is Happy”.

Healing Brings Good Memories

I know I have healed because I can remember the many great things I had as a child. I now have fond memories and they now cover up the bad memories. The good memories bring me joy, cause me to break out and smile while bringing happy tears to my eyes. A walk down memory lane is now filled with gratefulness. I don’t hesitate to walk down memory lane. It is a pleasant welcome experience. That is freedom.

I was raised by two great women my grandmother Mamie and my great grandmother Bertha. Cara my aunt also shared in raising. Tragically, I never saw them in a healthy relationship with men. However, I never heard them be mean to anyone. I did not overhear them plotting about revenge.
I saw them work together to accomplish goals like being homeowners. I saw them share with friends, family, and neighbors.

Healing has allowed me to see the glorious upbringing these women gave me. I am who I am because of them. I am kind-hearted because they were kind-hearted. I have a passion for helping people just like they taught me to be. I believe in order and setting boundaries like they taught me.
They also taught me to fight back, stand on my own two feet and don’t take no shit off nobody. Just as they taught me to pray and trust God. They also taught me to be ready to protect myself. I really saw no fear in them at all.

One man got rowdy with my grandmother when I was about eight or nine and she got her gun and run his ass out of the house. We never saw or heard from him again. I saw them have male friends but no live-in man. A man did not ever spend the night.
They worked and provided for themselves. I started working at eleven cleaning offices with my grandmother. They taught me by example and word that “If you don’t work, you don’t eat”.

They poured so much love into me. My great grandmother would hold me and rock me in her rocking chair while reading the bible to me. This has to be my fondest memory of her. I thank God that I can carry these memories with me in my heart every day. There is no more rain in this cloud. I found the silver lining. All the hard work has been worth it. #Healed

brokenness

Because we are broken we choose broken people who help us to perpetuate the brokenness to a multigenerational level.  We have been socialized and conditioned to withstand breaking.  It has been our normal for so long that we don’t even question the breaking.  We see it everywhere.  It is a part of our history.  We were determined to not break or at least not show our brokenness.

It is my brokenness that has made me whole. The tears in my soul are sewn with the golden thread of Grace. Beautiful scars honor my journey. Breaking open has allowed my soul to evolve to unconditional love for myself.

 

 

 

 

Soul Deep

There has always been something deep inside my soul that has kept me going.  Writing poetry allowed my soul to bleed, my soul spoke to me through the words on the pages.

Sometimes I run across something I’ve written long ago and I don’t remember pouring these words onto the paper.  It is usually profound, honest and deeply moving.

Most of my best poetry has been penned while tears rolled down my face.  When the ache in my heart can’t be expressed verbally or the pain is unbearable writing is the only release for the anguish.

I want to share the gifts I have been given.  Each poem expressed something that my mouth could not utter. Each poem a letting of the painful emotions buried for decades.  Words on a paper are safe, but it is time to share.

May every poem be a balm for another soul. needing to know they are not alone.  Hopefully just knowing that another soul made it over to the other side will encourage other women to start their journey to healing.