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resilience and tea

just had a sob attack.  an angry teary hangry attack. a half eaten brownie that was for me, triggered it (i was looking forward to it the whole night to have it for bf). I still have to go through my divorce thing and i have to find the right lawyer.  If i could, if I can, I’d get him deported. but it’s not worth the waste of money.  So in my delirious outburst of anger I wrote myself this thing

By God’s mercy

I refuse to let words hurt me
I refuse to let circumstances stop me
I refuse to fall hopeless
I refuse to let my weaknesses detain me
I refuse to fall victim to emotions
I refuse to let people’s abuse consume me
I refuse to let mindsets and corruption make me give up
I refuse to sit down and sob
I refuse to give in
I refuse to stop

By God’s mercy

I refuse to stop.

So then I made my mom a cup of tea.  cuz I left the kettle on as i was balling away

By God’s mercy, the tea saved me from my utter drop.

 

Empty

open and empty

except with desires a-plenty
for camaraderie and friendship

it’s the strange shadow of freedom
that lurks before me
the lack of responsibility
except for my own necessity
of setting my ship
so I can set sail

empty?

I’m the captain to my board
but also the sailor for my ship

sailing to discover new places
adventures and scary endeavors
churning through waves
exploring secret caves

and yet I come back
to look into my mirror
and
feel empty?

my reflection says Hello
But who says “How do you do?’
to whom I reply, “fine, and you?”

My reflection gives a smile
an evidence to a heart
but it beats only to its self

and flutters to its own art

art for which there is only one color ink
a single pen in a single hand
of course with surprises
but sometimes, in a sense, bland

and empty
and of course there is no wrong
there’s satisfaction in every self-made intricacy
and jitter in every self-made mistake
and even glitter in the ones that aren’t my fault

drawn are the wings of gratitude
that flew my humility to the sky
fearing no other
and forgiving those low intentions

my art is drawn on a single slate

but waits for another color
to pair the single strides
of every sail and stroke
until it can finally discover
the other side
where it’ll find the missing scribbles

to complete the art
and make it full
and give a new reflection
that faces another direction
eagerly waiting
to sail this other sea
with full conviction