Fear

Its a disease.

A sickness.

It consumes you.

Ruins you.

They say not to let fear win

But it consumes everything

Eating one from the inside out

Always casting doubt

Racing heart

Right from the start

Shaky hands

Weakened knees

Shortness of breath

Do you dare

Give into the scare

Which is really just

Symptoms of fear

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Choose Wisely

To the left lies the past

Something that still has a grasp

On the mind, body, and soul.

While to the right stands the future

Waiting with an outstretched hand

Simply saying “I understand.”

Standing on the edge

Of a rock and a hard place

This decision one has to face.

The past left you broken

The future is not yet certain

Now you have a choice to make

One that ultimately seals your fate

Pick the one that suits you best

And let the pieces fall into place

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Speak To Me

Open your mouth

Let the words formulate on your tongue

Let them spill out

Telling the dark secrets that plague your mind

Whisper them if you must

It’s a start

My ears are not closed

My tongue does not judge

My shoulder is there for support

Do not hold back

Speak to me

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Lie

In order for her to make it through the day, each day, she tells herself this lie.

It was a game.

He didn’t love me.

He never did.

Because to face the truth was much harder than anything she ever did.

The truth was that his love hurt her in more ways than one.

So for her to cope she says:

He didn’t love me.

He never did.

This lie she shall repeat,

Until her heart takes that final beat.

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Bad Guy

I hate you.

Three words that stirred so much emotion in me that I had to do a double take.

My son and I have been going through the motions since the separation with my ex. I’m trying to find that balance in my life with him where he can get some type of normalcy again.

Needless to say he’s been acting out at home and it’s progressing to school. I’ve been working on just having one on one time with him but he hasn’t been making it easy.

So he told me hates me last night. He’s eight. I figured I had a good couple of years in with my sweet little boy before the tween thing started happening. Boy….was I wrong.

I didn’t cry or yell or even get mad. I took a breath and said “Oh…that hurts but I still love you.”

Now at the the time I really didn’t know what to do. At first I wanted to just sit and cry. I didn’t know if my response was correct or if he should have gotten a different reaction.

All I know is that those three words tore me down and I realized my little one was hurting. He was hurting so bad that his reaction was to hurt me.

I understand…Everything changed with a blink of an eye.

I’m his mom. I’m suppose to fix all the problems and kiss the pain away. I’m suppose to protect him and chase away his nightmares. I’m suppose to always be the good guy.

Sometimes as a mom, you can’t always be super. Sometimes you have to admit defeat. You have to be the “Bad Guy”. So he’s mad at me and I’m the “Bad Guy”.

Well little one, my job isn’t easy. In being the “Bad Guy” I’m protecting you. I’m protecting you from future disappointment. I’ll be the “Bad Guy” when I need to be, not because I hate you.

I’ll be the “Bad Guy” because I Love You.

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Do You Remember

Hey,

Do you remember…

Do you remember the good times we shared?

The crazy dares?

Remember that one time when we danced around the room…

Or the night we roasted marshmellows under the full moon?

Can you remember the long walks we had?

How about the day we went skinny dipping

And I ended up tripping…

There was this one time we watched the sunset.

On that day I got stung by a bee…

Silly me, right on the knee

What about when we rolled around on the bed?

I remember that day I fell and hit my head…

You’re a klutz you said.

I laughed and smiled. 

My tears stopped for a while.

Do you remember the good times we shared?

I remember…

I remember that in the end…

The good times we shared…

I made up in my head.

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I Wish

Be careful what you wish for is the saying that they teach us from young

But I wish I never met you…

That I never fell in love…

That my cheeks were never stained with tears

As I have to stand here and face my deepest fears

That I…

That you…

That us…

Well, I wish I never met you.

Then this wouldn’t hurt so bad

And I wouldn’t feel constantly sad

That I wouldn’t feel broken

Because you cast my love aside like a token

If I could erase you I would…

I should…

But that wouldn’t do any good.

Because I love you.

I still love you

So that night when I saw the shooting star

I wish I never met you.

That I never fell in love…

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Imaginer

Have you ever wished you were the plaything of a great imaginer?

A character dancing across the minds of people absorbed in an enchanting fantasy…

That you are but the face of a masterpiece fiction?

And as the main character,

You are flawed, troubled by hard times,

But essentially good.

And no matter how hard the times may seem,

Your story will inevitably end

With a coveted “Ever After“.

Readers will close your book,

Satisfied and strengthened by your success,

Seeing themselves in you…

Flawed, troubled, but with a good heart.

But not realizing they are

As we all are…

Faced with a bittersweet reality.

We are the plaything of a flawed

But essentially good imaginer…

Ourselves.

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Eight

***In the eyes of an eight year old boy***

 

How am I suppose to be the man they want me to be,

When the men I look up to keeps walking out on me.

Did I do something wrong…

To make them feel like they didn’t belong…

I’m Eight…

Eight…

Eight…

Yet this seems to be my faith

To be alone

In a broken home.

Who am I suppose to be?

A dad whose never been there from the time I entered the world.

Or the step dad I valued that left my mom for another girl.

What am I suppose to do

When times get tough?

Who do I turn to

When I’ve had enough?

How can I

Live in a world where love has no value.

Kindness means nothing.

The promise of a call on the phone that never rings

Gifts are taken away…

How can I

Make myself better

So that he would stay…

And be with me.

Didn’t they love me?

I must have asked my mother

This question a million times

Yes, she says with a smile

I know its a lie

Because I see the tears in her eyes.

It’s killing her inside

To see me try to decide

To be the “GOOD” man I’m suppose to be.

But

I’m Eight…

Eight…

Eight…

Yet this seems to be my faith

And I’m angry

When I have all rights to be

Because when you walked away from my mom

You also walked away from ME.

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