Vanessa Williams Paul
My Daily Battle
I am standing and thinking of my past words. I know that everyone heard –this and that.
I was broadsided and shaken to the core. I hid my face and I shifted my focus away from the world.
Muddy waters that I wallowed in still stain my robe… it was white and it was pretty. All the dragon flies turned into fanged moths and then the lights went out.
Mangled thoughts and excerpts from arguments controlled my head. Vicious smiles laced with deceit and my so called friends.
A captive of my own thoughts- afraid to speak and afraid to walk; retreat my tool; priceless princess; I cried I lay because I had no love.
Cast out and replaced I put a pen in my hand. I spelled it all out on paper to make the world understand. I grew strength from words as if they were etched in stone.
As each day passed I knew that for another day I could go on. The paradox is upon me, and the reflection is my life. In another dimension I drift- as I view both sides; the life that abandoned me and walked out the door and the life that surrounds me now with promises galore.
I will not use my eyes, for they are not governed by faith. I will no longer cry because long ago the tears began to burn my face. With caution I proceed; this paradox is upon me. I suffer from indecision and triumph by premonition.
Nothing-nobody-no life is perfect you see. Fabulous fetishes fester with foolishness and famishes fascination fervently and frequently. Reality relates righteousness to redemption and redevelops reform refining reflection of self.
Longing for a state of mind hinders the process of achieving. I learned to live in hope in stead of only dreaming. I chose not to prolong my hurt. It is hard to redefine self worth. It was not meant for me to suffer- I used prayer as a buffer. I am alive
I smile because I know that this paradox may shift at any given time. I can only choose my path and I can only hope. It is according to God’s plan for me if I sustain-He plans for me to cope. I give family to him to protect just in case the sorrow comes back.
Sometimes in the midst of my joy I can hear the paradox right out side my door; I rebuke it and move on, I cannot look back any more.
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