The Grab, Sista

imageI know I can’t kill him but there is apart of me that wants too.. apart of me that hates him as much as I love him.. apart that hates most of all what I have become.. he has started jerking my hair and grabbing my arms.. he pulled my hair so hard my my neck and the back of my head still hurts.. Sista gurl what am I to do is this the beginning of physical abuse.. I saw my momma go through a lot but one thing I never saw was a man put his hands on her.. and get away with it.. I remember when we were young and my step daddy would get drunk.. and the fighting would start.. until one day enough was enough and she put him out.. divorce him and raised her five kids on her own.. and I am my mothers daughter but damn what has happened to me..

Sista gurl, I hate him yet I can’t let go.. what the freak is wrong with me.. I know this not my life not the life I plan.. by my fifty birthday I was supposed to retire early with my husband.. and walk around the house naked.. until we had company.. but now Sista look at my life.. a husband who I left because I thought I missed out on my youth and I did.. but I learned the hard way you can never go back.. I should still be able to enjoy life but if it’s not physical pain, then it’s mental.. even on days that start out good like today.. always end up being just another bad dream.. I long to wake up from this nightmare.. I call my life..

I looked him dead in his face and said we are DONE.. he started to talk but I stopped him by saying there is nothing left to discuss.. because I knew if I let him talk.. the next time he would not just pull my hair are grab my arm while I’m driving.. but it would be not only my mom and step dad but me and my husband.. see I’m a custom to the fighting , abuse and everything that comes with it..

All I can do is pray for every batter woman and man out there.. and remember to take it one second at a time..

original me

The Jar


Life in a jar.. You pouch holes in the lid and then you crawl in.. You can’t hear what’s going on around you.. you are safe in your Jar.. no concern with family and friends around you.. the crisis of the world matters no more.. you are safe in your Jar.. You don’t even bother to look through the glass for fear of making contact with someone.. you are safe in your Jar.. you have no care of the people coming and going.. it doesn’t matter you have no one to hold or touch.. you are safe in your Jar.. you curl up in your Jar.. and you pray no one disturbes you.. You pray they just place your Jar on shelf with all the other Jars.. who lost hope and gave up.. because you are safe in your Jar.. no more recalling memories.. no more bringing up past hurts and disappointment.. no more looking for someone to love.. no more fake smiles or the cynical voice that say I understand.. ┬áno people to deal with, no more trying to pretend and fit in.. just leave me alone in my Jar where I am safe..


Original me..