The Fading Blackness (Denial By Any Means)

We're all seated here at this gathering to experience the truth about our ability to be true. Yet your truth is offensive to my very core; my essence of being of oneness with myself, at one with humanity, an inner eptitude with my Soul FULL dance with life's experiences . 

How?  I ask myself can I deal with compassion for you and maintain a pride for myself? 

Born with a beauty FULL hue yet constantly called by a dominant culture to deny basking in my glory remain unseen.  Sunkissed yet ravished by the depths of  self hatred - invisible.  

How?  I ask myself can I sit here, hear and listen to your pain without courting a response?

Most definitely a reaction.

Right now sitting here hearing you, inner turmoil bubbles for me as a witches cauldron yet mine has no other ingredient besides rage and anger.  Rage and anger because you can share with "others" even smile about your ability to make friends with "others", but you are unable or unwilling to reach out, to look at or see me and in turn witness your own profoundness. 

You seem unable or unwilling to search, to sit still and feel how those of us who look like you are resonating and empathic with your plight, are you even aware that to love "others", you must first touch yourself.

Anything else is fading blackness the ability or disability to be any "other" besides yourself by any and all means necessary.   To sabotage a heritage whilst embracing the dominance of a hegemonic nightmare is to render ones self useless and Soul as dead.

I won't be invisible.  And no matter what you decide to share, I see you. I will continue to grow empathy and reach you.

Lost And Found

             

I didnt have a childhood, there wasn't much time to grieve for that either as I stepped effortlessly into oblivion followed shortly by my first of 3 children.  I had to grow up really quickly although I was emotionally  lacking, no time to mourn, no time to process anything I had earned and learned from the streets of brutality that had constantly battered me upside down and back again.  I would remember though from time to time, or, I'd call it forced remembrance.  Yes, the type where it would take you by surprise and you could sleep the bitter after effects of for years and barely remember a thing again until the next time you found your self confronted.

A vicious cycle has already been re perpetuated when violation takes place.  I mean an abuser has normally been abused and I wonder, does "he" choose to do it again?  I mean what was "done" to him?  Does "he"?  Does "he" make the decision to violate your very life force so that "he" can ejaculate venom that will hold you stiff with fear that you will endure to relinquish for life?  I wonder.  I always knew it was wrong, even if at times it felt so right.

What happens to him?  Does "he" take my fear on with him to his next  "victim" like sodden prey?   Does "he" ever ever think of "me" , soul tarnished?  "Me", who left with my scarred soul screaming to be recognised but forced to learn to recognise my own self.  No.  "He" never did.

Lifetime upon lifetime it has taken "me" to find myself, discover worth, release and bury deep pain once uncovered and dusted off.  Tears upon tears I cried, for no matter how much I loved mine, I passed something of "him" on to mine.  My babies like scattered petals blown away in the storm who in the aftermath like "me" will choose to master life using tools to build a sense of tenacity against lifetimes of procrastination no more.

I've grown even if worn like an old Souljah battle wounded, healed through from victim to triumphant victor.  Mine, my own who at last, through me will bask in this glory because of sheer determination, I have handed them this empowerment via glory.  Come in "mine", sit down, get comfortable as I prepare to tell you my story of lost and found.