I have had a wildly emotional weekend, making it difficult for me to post. I have this struggle between writing what I truly feel and writing what’s just below the surface of my heart. I am working on the courage not to shy away from the full, authentic, unfiltered truth in my writing. I am most definitely writing only for the eyes of others. I am not writing what I would write if I didn’t know people would see it. My real, honest, and deep truth.
So, I’ll start right now. This post will be my beginning of truth and I will continue, God willing, to find more truth into my writing each day. The truth is, I am tired of lying to myself. The truth is I am broke as I’ve ever been. The truth is that I am pissed off with God and yet, overwhelmingly in love with him all at the same darn time. The truth is my father is full of shit and so is my mother. And the truth is, I honestly love them no less.
The truth is people will never be a support for me because God literally created me to be the support system for the entire world. So, truth is, I’m a bit annoyed with God for making me so significant and yet, allowing me to feel so disempowered. The real truth is though, that I am really the person full of shit.
The real truth is that I love to project my shit onto others. And as soon as the going gets tough, start looking outside myself for the answers. And whenever I can avoid being vulnerable , I will, at all costs. Even if it means blaming God, pointing the finger at my family and dismissing my support system. The truth is, I’m my only problem. And the truth is, I’ve already been fixed. I just didn’t believe it.
Here is my truth poem, for NaPoWriMo and for myself.
Hidden behind centuries of human constructed, hand- designed, supernaturally enforced lies,
There is something
So beautifully pure and lovely
So unimaginably dear
Perfect and noble
Glorious and gracious
Somewhere, beneath the piles of ego crap and personal mantra madness
There is a thing so divine
It’s long been kidnapped
Distorted and reconstructed
Misrepresented and under signified
If you are willing
Open and temperamental
To going deeper than the deep
To discover the inside of the inside
You can find it
But be warned
In all its glory and glamor
It stings like one billion bees
Powerful enough to knock a giant to its knees
The truest essence
Of the intangible realness of bittersweet