“Some of Us”
I want restored, whole and free. My choice to choose unselfishly, for all the suffering that this has caused. The ability to let my children choose without gripping so tight, to a what if I never see you again… I’m scared to hold a wand. I’m sacred to make a wish. I’m scared to not care. I know my boundaries, do you? I know that I felt offended by my neighbor. I’m tired of grieving and I want recovery. Can I wish for that? Or are we going to selfishly hold me to something you haven’t been through? I’m speaking to the hierarchy of Christianity. To those of you who have watched me suffer, and to those of you who have suffered with me. To those of you, next door! To those of you, whether Christian or not that made a bet on my life, unbeknownst to me. To those of us that know I would have moved on had you let me. To those of us, who let it play on repeat, to create a crazy world. A world of crime and luck, money and greed, on every turn of the head, and on bended knee.
To awaken our dull minds due to someone else’s rules of deed, and to those Some of us with the same belief, that can make me turn from mine. Well, that’s good that some of us have money; still just know it’s the same as a prison. it’s gotten so blown out of hand that we all feel like we’re flying high. Thankfully, we have friends. Thankfully, some of us still have our jobs. Thankfully, some of us have a significant other. Most of all, be thankful we can still have treasured memories ahead, behind you, and above. I’m just here suffering with some of you, while the world goes on making art and poetry. I move as if nothing happened after the plea, once, I felt thrown out to the sea. There are horrific teachers out there that are just to busy for you and me. Who are these people, and what’s their story, anyway…
We get better, leaving it in the past, starting a new. We throw out the bitter and keep pulling through. We write, we talk it out, amongst one another, amongst ourselves. I write a lot about recovery, though, for me I find there isn’t much else to do. I write about the process of going through grief and getting by, and I do so while trying to make many of us laugh without bidding a due. I’m holding out for anything time being, hoping to eventually pick up some writing gigs, and then to speak in front of you. Traveling a bit to get new experiences, to taste more of life’s pleasures, now that the kids are grown and I’m single again. I look out for my loves, letting it go, with every nights sleep, we must trust to proceed. We have to recover, we have to succeed without so many intercepted interactions from the turf of the green.
