The Archived Poems-The Date

over the next few days I will be posting some of the poems I spoke about. They will be called "The archived poems".

This poem was written in 1993. The story is completely fictional-I was never raped as a teenager and never raped in a situation such as this. I was 15 years old, and although the situation was fictional-my feelings about this subject were real. I had been through this-but as a much younger child.

The date

The hall is full of laughter

People everywhere

She stands there all alone

Trying to pretend not to care

Inside she’s feeling empty

Not ready to be known

But after all she’s been through

She’s mature and she has grown

Her family couldn’t care less

Is that why it hurts so much

She can’t stand all the people

She can’t stand to be touched.

There, over there he is

Laughing with his friends

She remembered when she too was there

He made it all end

They really liked each other

Ready to see it through,

She realized he was not the one

He wanted to do things she couldn’t do

She tried to tell him no

It started as a date

He pretended not hear her

And, savagely, she was raped

She told her friends and family

She that it was true

He made her look like a liar

Pretending he had suffered too

He said she just wanted attention

Just to make him look bad,

She wished that she could tell him,

He was soon to be a dad.

Abortion was her only choice

Killing an innocent child

She couldn’t allow this child to live

For the love for it would only be mild

Her friends turned against her

His story they chose to believe

“why me” she cried out in the night

She had been hurt, lied on, and deceived

There was nothing she could do

Only she knew the story

She had to endure and live it through

Some day she would rise in glory

She has no friends but herself

All this because of his lust

Raped, pregnant, hurt inside

Now who could she trust?

Someday she will tell her tale

And then they’ll know her side

He’ll be the one who suffers

For all the tears she cried

11/6/93

Clarity

I happened upon something rare last night. I think very few people can pinpoint when life started taking a turn for them, and how things were before that point.



I found it.



This last week has been more than trying for me. Yesterday I was deep in prayer and thought, when I was suddenly compelled to find a book I used to write in when I was younger. I had completely forgot about it and I was shocked that I even remembered I had it, and the fact that I knew exactly where it was. (Thank you God for talking to me!)



A box. Last night, simply a box. Today-the key to my clarity.



In the box I found things that I had written from preschool all the way until I was in college. It was painful to read some of it, because I can look back now and see where I started to hide inside myself. I read through every paper in that box. Who knows why I put those papers in that box when I did, but I see God knew exactly what he was doing.



I sat there and one by one, I read every paper, every story, every poem and I could look into my memory and remember how I felt. I laughed. I cried. But I remembered. In first grade, I wrote about an imaginary friend. On my story I wrote that she was a nice ghost and only I could see her and talk to her. I laughed out loud, and then I remembered JoAnna. JoAnna was my imaginary friend. She kept all my secrets. It hurt me at first to remember this, because my reasoning for creating her was as an outlet. I know that now. At first I started to get mad, I thought even then I was hiding. Then I let it go, it's over. And then the Clarity came over me. JoAnna was an imaginary friend at the time. But she was the me outside of me that I had to create to get through what I was going through. JoAnna was there when they touched me, when they made me perform sexual acts on them, when they teased me, when they hit me...but they never hurt her. She was MINE. They couldn't touch her. And now I see-she was the ME that they couldn't get to. It was something of mine that they couldn't taint. She was there for me. She listened to me cry, she felt my anger, she was there so I wasn't alone. I held onto JoAnna until I was about 8 years old. I never spoke about her but now I remember that I talked to her about the things I couldn't tell other people. If I recall correctly, I kind of let go of her when I started to actually believe that talking to God did mean he was listening. I was 8...I didn't know.



Also in the box were love poems I had written at various ages. All these things will be posted sometime, I just have to find the time to get them all in electronically. I giggled at the love poems. So cheesy and childish, as they should be. I have spent many years thinking that my childhood was robbed...and in some ways it was, I can't take that back. But here-I could see. It was in me...I had the same junior high crushes. I thought love was bubblegum and balloons. It was in me. I did know how to feel without doubt. I knew how to dream like little girls do. I have forgotten that part of me. I have forgotten that that ever existed inside of me. I found it. It was never taken from me, I just let the concept leave me. I stopped believing in that kind of innocence only because I was bitter that mine had been taken. My innocence might have been taken, but dreams can not be taken. We let them go when it seems like it's impossible that they could ever come true.



There were quite a few other poems that I wrote during the ordeal that my family went through when my dad was in prison. (All these things seem unclear I know, but I will post the details of these events soon enough!) It was hard to remember that pain. Learning how to deal with circumstance that you don't deserve was hard at 14. But I can look back and see that then, I was wondering why this was all happening. Today, I guess I feel thankful that I'm faithful enough to know it all happened exactly as it should have. Although these poems were painful to read, I remembered that I haven't always held everything inside. I couldn't. When I was feeling like that I had an outlet. I let it out, and then I let it go. When did I stop doing that? Why did I stop doing that? Somewhere along the line instead of letting it out, I just let it eat me away on the inside and I never let it go. I don't know when I stopped doing that, but it was so important for me to remember that I HAVE done that. That I have the ability TO DO that. I just stopped.

There were some other things in the box that I think I needed, just because I've become so lost in the bad things that I have let them overshadow all those things that I should remember proudly. A suprising amount of awards that I have received that I forgot about. How could I? Every one of those things is something I DID. I DID IT. Nobody can take those from me. They are mine. My acceptance letter to MIT. It was my dream to go there, and I DID THAT. Everything I worked for, everything I wanted...and when I got there-the door wasn't closed in my face. Although I didn't go because it wasn't what I wanted-it was still a dream-a goal...and I got there. "Welcome to the class of 2000". I might not have accepted the invitation, but it was there. That's important to me. I did that.

I guess I never stopped to go back and remember who I was before I let tragedy, bad memories, and circumstance consume me. Now I know. I know not who I was, but who I can be. JoAnna may have been put away, but I have to bring her back. All the secrets that she knows, I need to deal with them and then I need to find the dreamy teenager in me again and let it all go. Then I need to remember that it was me that got me to where I'm at. I did this.

I've been looking in the mirror wondering when it would be clear. Now I see that I was looking in the window trying to get away from what brought me down.

I'm back in the mirror. I see me. I see all of them behind me. So I'm turning around to gather them all up and take them with me so that I can now be whole on this journey.

And when I get them all and turn around...then I will see me. And it will all be clear.

Clarity.

Finally.

The Archived Thoughts-Waiting on your own life

I found in a lot of my writings that I also had thoughts that maybe later on transpired into poetry, I just outlined my feelings. I don't know when I wrote this-and honestly-I can't really describe how it makes me feel. Just questions, NOW. But I remember what it felt like to ask these questions and not know if there was an answer, and if there was-not being sure I'd ever know it.

Waiting on your own life

Do we all live in waiting?

Are we all waiting for the next 'thing' whatever it is?

Is anybody else waiting on their own life, like me?

Is anybody else stepping out to try to change the things that need to be changed, only to wait and see if you did it right this time?

Am I waiting on life? Or did I miss the purpose, and is life waiting on me?

Am I waiting for the people in my life to come around? Or are they waiting on me to fail again?

Am I waiting for them to believe in me? Or are they waiting on me to believe in myself?

Am I waiting for people to see who I am? Or are they waiting on me to show them?

Life...where are you?


Date unknown

The Archived Thoughts-The end of the broken soul...part II

What am I missing?

What is it that I just don’t get?

Is God waiting for me to have a revelation? In my mind I think how he must be tired of waiting, but because I know how good he is, I don’t question him. But now I have to question me.

Is this where I’m supposed to be? Alone? Did I miss something?

I’m blank. Not empty. I’m blank.

This is what I do. I feel, and then I go blank. I don’t put it away, I don’t keep it inside-I wipe it off. Blank sheet. Nothing.

I have to think that I missed something. That somewhere, sometime, maybe it had to do with someone-I missed it. Because I don’t know if I’m supposed to be here.

I know my other entry may have been cause for concern…but that’s what I am when I’m not blank.

It seems that to everybody I am something…but not the same except for the common factor is that I’m stability to them. It’s almost an oxymoron. How could someone see me and see stability-when I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be, who I want to be, if I even like what I’ve turned out to be.

I hope it worked out. I hope to God I didn’t do or say anything that hindered him from being the best that he can be. From showing them exactly who he is.

He’s leaving me. And why shouldn’t he. I have loved him inside of me and on the outside, I’ve been blank.

He’s staying because he doesn’t want to be alone again. He’s not happy. It’s unbearable, but it’s true. My heart is breaking and as much as I want to call and scream and yell and tell him how much I love him, I can’t bother him. This could be the most important day of his life. The last thing he needs is the emotional, unstable bitch that he calls a girlfriend to mess up his state of mind. I picture him celebrating. I picture him happy and laughing…I hope he got his victory today. And if he did, I’ll know. He’ll never get anywhere with me, I don’t think it can work. He gave me hope that it wasn’t like that, but as long as it took me to accept it…he wiped it away so quickly. I told him I’d never walk away again, and I don’t want to. But he won’t do it-and based on what he said-based on how he was-it’s better for him.

No wedding. No ring, no pretty dress, no happily ever after. And no ruining another person’s life that just doesn’t deserve it. I’m stuck here. Stuck in my loneliness, in my hurt, in my pain, in my anger, in my sadness…and I’ve been stuck so long that I’m blank.

I’m not missing anything. I’m missing everything.

I am broken…I’m missing my soul. I’m missing my heart. I’m missing the basic drive to even want to be alive…but I wipe it all away. I move in monotony…and I always thought it was applaudible that I could shut out all the noise…I’m too good at it.

I know how to make it silent. I know how not to feel. I know how not to be. And now I know-there’s no coming back from it.

I have made him suffer. He wants to see the best in me, but there’s nothing good left here. I should have left well enough alone. I don’t deserve his love. I don’t deserve his goodness. I don’t deserve any part of all the rewards he is going to receive just simply for daring to dream. The only dream I have is to have peace. And in my mind, that peace only comes with death.

This is so hard. How can people love you if they truly don’t know you? Can they love what they think you are? Will they still love you when they find out who you are? I guess I’m preparing myself. There’s a whole world of people better suited, just better for him. I will be thankful for the time that I’ve had. And I’ll let him go…he deserves to be happy.

I’m missing my heart. SON has part of it, he will bring it back. Mr. has the other part that I didn’t think I had. It’s safe with him, but I won’t ever hold him back.

The body is controlled by the brain and the heart. I’ve always had the brain…but now I’d give anything to have my whole heart back. Everything.

I guess I do get it. I have to maintain. I can’t depend on others, that’s not what they are there for. They can’t take it. I know better than to try to make anyone understand how I feel. I shouldn’t even acknowledge keeping things in, I should just do it and put on the happy face. I’ve been selfish. How can they get me when I don’t get me. And maybe if I loved me, they could too.

I won’t expect anybody to do things I can’t do.

I am missing me. And I don’t know where to find me.

The Archived Thoughts-The end of the broken soul...part I

You win. You all win. Every person that has hurt me. Each person that I have wronged that was waiting for me to get mine. Any person, that for whatever reason, wanted me to suffer. You win.

Is victory sweet?

You know, I’ve spent a long time telling myself that I’m not a victim of my circumstance. But just as you had hoped…I am. Just as I’ve told many lies-the person that can look me in the face and call me the biggest liar-is ME. You took my childhood, you took my innocence, you took my ability to love, you took my ability to trust, you took my dreams, you took my hope, you took my heart. Little by little, piece by piece…I’m a shell of a person that I could have been. I’m a lie on the outside and empty on the inside. And now the basic things that I should have learned as I child…I can’t have. It’s too late.

You win.

I let what you did, enable me to justify doing others wrong. But don’t worry-I got it all back. And then some.

You win.

And for those of you that are on the outside looking in…you don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know how I work, you don’t know who I am, you don’t know anything but what you think you see. And that is not me…it’s a shell of a person who could have been. If my suffering makes you happy-you should be upset that you wasted any time. I’m a pitiful soul that has been suffering all along. I can put my words on paper as sharp as knives to pierce your soul, but I can’t give any single emotion that is ever right. I’ve been suffering.

You win.

I’m only sorry now for the people that really don’t win. How can you ever know how sorry I am? How can you ever know how much I don’t want to be who I am, but I’m trapped inside my own existence? How can you ever know that I blame myself that even if you didn’t have a choice-I wish you never had to be a part of my life. Not because I don’t love who you are or what you’ve been to me. But simply because I’ve been a waste of YOUR time.

A child…completely innocent-given to someone that doesn’t deserve all the goodness, all the blessings, all the joy that you have brought. Everything about you that’s beautiful, is everything that is not like me. Everything that hurts you, is because of me. Everything that you are looking for, is everything I should have been able to give you-but I can’t. And every good thing you do will be because of who YOU are. Not me.

A father and a mother who believed in me. That gave me all the tools I needed to be everything that I’m not. I wish you didn’t love me. It would make more sense. You still hope that I can be someone that is worth being. But I can’t. I don’t know how. You believe in me, but I gave up on me a long time ago. I just wasn’t brave enough to say it. It’s not your fault.

A sister that I don’t understand, but now your actions make sense. There’s nothing good about me. So maybe you’re the only one that can be honest enough to admit it.

A brother who has so much ahead of him. Be your own person. Be who you are, and don’t ever look back on me as somebody you look up to. There’s nothing here to be proud of. There’s nothing here that you should want to be as part of your life. Love your life. Love who you are. I’ve tried to, but I can’t.

I don’t want to live. I feel so ungrateful for the things that I’ve been blessed with-but I’m here again. Maybe I was always here and I pretended not to be…but I’m here. God trusted me with what he gave to me. God thought I could be better. How much will I be punished for telling God he is wrong. I can’t take this life. I can’t be responsible for hurting anybody else. I can’t. I don’t want to.

Why should I?

I know I have to. But I should want to. And I don’t.

So I’m going to wipe my eyes. Get up. Put on my shell and go on about my business.

That’s what I do.

Again, you win

Forgiveness

I often say that the worst thing you can do to somebody else is to stop believing that they can change.

Well, as I live and learn-I think I also need to keep reminding myself that one of the worst things we can do to ourselves is not opening up and allowing yourself to truly forgive somebody. And really for me, to forgive myself first.

The inevitable stupidity hit me this morning. Stupid. That's how I always feel after I've had some major outlet of my true feelings. I feel like I shouldn't have said anything. I wonder what the person thinks of me now that I've said it. I wonder what it would be like to just deal with things like a normal person would. Is there such a thing?

I can only speak for me, but I know the defense mechanisms I use to protect myself really only hurt me in the end. Nasty words, being excessively mean when it's not necessary, being cold when nobody deserves it. It's all overrated. It's all a temporary fix to your pain. It's all bullshit, basically.

I have told myself for a long time that I can not function in a relationship. I have told myself that I have so much in my past that I can't trust or believe in basic goodness. I have told myself that the happiness that most people strive for and attain can not be mine. I have set myself up for failure.

So today, I am going to forgive myself. I am going to stop standing behind who I think I should be and I'm going to walk in front and be the person that is scared to step out. How silly is it to be scared of failure when I know I survived odds that most people don't beat. That's not failure. I know how to love, but I don't expect to be loved. And when I am-I doubt it. I forgive myself for not believing that I deserve that.

I have done to EVERYBODY what I claim is the worst thing you can do. I have not given anybody the benefit of the doubt in thinking they could understand me. I have held everybody to the standard of some of the worst people I have ever known because those are the people that I never want to be in my life again. So to protect myself, I've only given everybody else as much credit as I would to those people...NONE.

I forgive the people that ever formed an opinion about me without knowing anything about me. The fact of the matter is, I never gave them the opportunity or trusted that they had the capacity to even "get" me. I forgive them, and in that same breath-I hope they can forgive me for assuming they weren't capable.

I may have lost the things most important to me to realize that instead of fighting against them, I could have fought for them. Honestly, I don't know what to do now. I can't explain the feelings I'm having right now-but I have got to move forward. I've been a person outside of myself for too long and I have to stop that. I've let the person that I want people to see walk in front and move forward, and I've let the person that I'm trying to hide pull back. I'm standing in the middle allowing the tug of war and while they move forward and back-I'm just here. Going nowhere. I can walk forward-so the person I am is who people will see. The person I'm trying to hide...she has got to go.

It's doesn't make any sense for me to get upset about how people judge me. It makes sense to file it, keep my head up, and show them who I am.

As much as I've ever been through, nobody has ever victimized me worse than I've done to myself.

I forgive them.

Most importantly, I forgive me.

Is love enough?

To answer the question simply, NO.

To answer it with deep thought, NO.

You know, we live in a society that tells us that happiness comes from love and money, not necessarily in that order. Isn't the ideal life to have a husband, a great career, kids, pets, a dream house, a dream car, and everything that goes with it? Well, the first point here is that for all that you need money-which should be supplied by your perfect husband and thriving career-and then love is supposed to hold it all together. Now hold for a commercial break.

Don't we all wish it was just this simple?

Am I in a relationship? Yes

Am I happy? Most of the time

Am I in love? Completely head over heels

Is it enough? Again, NO.

We have unrealistic expectations for what love is going to do. Well let me tell you, just for me, what it will NOT do.

Love will never be enough to explain why the things in my life are not important to you.

Love will never be enough to ease the pain after my feelings have been neglected in search of approval that may never, EVER be gained.

Love will never be enough for me to go on in life wondering just where my life is going-because although you love me-show me where my life is changing because of that?

Love will never be enough for me to understand why I have to sacrifice what I want for what you hope for.

Love will never be enough for me to understand that my opinion means nothing.

Love will never be enough for me to allow you to buy me out of my discontentment.

Love can't talk to me. Love can't work through your problems. Love can't make you be a man.

Love is what makes me stay here. Love is what reminds me why I want to be here. Love is what allows me the patience to endure. But it is not enough.

Love is a feeling. Life is the action of time passing us by. Time waits for no man. I can't get time back because I didn't consider it important in the first place. Love doesn't stop time. Time can fade love.

Love.
It's not enough.

Written July 16, 2008

Reflection

In my reflection
I wish you could see
The image I look at
My perception of me

I wish you could feel
The pain that I’ve seen
The hurt that I’ve carried
So many bad things

The girl in the mirror
Looks at the woman in awe
Of all that she’s been through
So many things have went wrong

I see the image of myself
I see what other people see
I know what’s behind those eyes
Only I really know me

I stand with my shoulders back
I stand with my head held high
Nothing more to be ashamed of
No more angry tears to cry


I see a mended heart
I see a complete soul
Only the scars of what I have endured
Those wounds now make me whole

I see a woman who can love
She tells the girl it is okay
I see a woman who has opened up
She makes the girl feel safe

I see a girl, once defeated
Sadness and fear ruled her ways
The woman now carries the banner
Victory is hers, every day

The woman now can see clearly
Nothing has ever went wrong
Things happened as they were supposed to
Now she sings a new song

The woman sees the girl
Exactly for who she really is
A person with nothing to be ashamed of
Just scared to let herself live

The woman inside me is ready
To take that girl by the hand
To tell her that everything was for a reason
To let her know we have walked in his plan

All the hurt has made me stronger
All the fear has made me wise
All the things I’ve been through
I see it, still in my own eyes

With all those things behind me
I’m ready to move in his will
I’m ready to face my enemies
My spirit can never again be killed

I used to look at my reflection with anger
I used to look at myself and wonder why
I used to look at myself and get angry
I used to look at myself and ask God, “WHY?”

Now I look at a woman
Complete, with a renewed spirit and soul
Now I embrace my reflection
Finally, I am whole.

In my reflection
It’s time to let go
Of the past that I let hold me down
I’m taking the past, it’s time to grow


In my reflection
I wish you could see
The image I look at
My perception of me

IN my reflection
Now I can see
An image of wholeness
A warrior who never accepted defeat

In my reflection
Now I can see
My perception was clouded
I do have the victory

In my reflection
Look and see
The girl in the shadows
The woman who set her free

In my reflection
Yes, I see
Strength, Pride, and Love
Now I see me.



11/26/2007
M.A. H.

Many Shades of Stupid

How many shades do you think that there are
Before you realize I know?

How many times do you want to lie in my face
Before you show signs of having some sense?

Of course she doesn’t live with you…there would be nowhere for her to be.
You sit up under her and play house all the time. Her house is your house-
And some man’s baby makes three.

Shade ONE

Your sisters should count themselves so lucky…to have a brother like you.
Running around for babies you didn’t make and pushing me to the side for all
The bullshit YOU perpetrate. If I had a brother like you-I wouldn’t need YOU.

Shade TWO.

Your mama should count herself a lucky one…a boy that comes running
at every request. You just might want to let her know you’re with her
before she starts running around to clean up your mess. A mama’s boy-
who would have guessed?!!

Shade THREE



To further go down the shades that have passed
Would only make this thing worse than it is

It would only remind me of what I have done
It would only remind me I’ve been dealing with a grown ass kid

How many shades of stupid
Do you plan to try to color me today?

How many times can you lie in my face
Before you expect me to confess…

How many things to do you want to try
To stay here when you are clearly in my way

How many ways do I have to say
Get the FUCK ON AND TAKE ALL YOUR MESS.


MAH
Aug 2006

**Thank you Mr. Williams for the inspiration! :-)

I wish

I WISH I COULD TELL HIM IM SORRY
I WISH I COULD TELL HIM I WAS WRONG
I WISH I COULD TAKE MY WORDS BACK
I WISH THAT I COULD BE STRONG

I WISH I WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO FIX THIS
I WISH I COULD SEE HIS FACE
I WISH I COULD TAKE THE PAIN AWAY
I WISH I WASN’T IN THIS PLACE

I WISH HE HAD ASKED ME TO STAY
I WISH HE WANTED TO BE HERE
I WISH THAT HE WANTED ME THE SAME
I WISH I COULD STOP THESE TEARS

I WISH THAT I WASN’T SO DISTANT
I WISH I COULD HAVE HIM TO HOLD
I WISH THAT I HAD ANOTHER CHANCE
I WISH I WOULDN’T HAVE LET GO

I WISH HE DIDN’T FIND SOMEONE NEW
I WISH IT WASN’T THAT EASY TO GO ON
I WISH THAT I HAD KNOWN WHAT I HAD
I WISH THIS HURT TO BE GONE

I WISH FOR HIM TO FIND “HER”
I WISH FOR HIM TO BE HAPPY
I WISH THAT ALL HIS WISHES COME TRUE
I WISH THAT HIS WISH WAS ME
~MAH

Written at an interesting time...2006

Thoughts not Spoken

I have thought about doing this for awhile, but mostly I do it privately as an outlet. I suppose to me, the things in my life have ranged from 0 to 10 million on a happiness, sadness, stress-add any emotion you like-I've been there.

I always said I would write a book-and life just doesn't allow for having the time to do such a thing just yet-maybe someday.

What I have learned is that I have so much to learn from the experience of others. And just the same-I have a lot to teach. This blog may never be read. It may be read 11 bazillion times over...but they are just the thoughts of a normal woman, who lives a normal life, that has played the cards life has dealt her. If you want to sit in on my hand, you are more than welcome. If you have tips for playing my game-please enlighten me. If you just need some entertainment, I'm happy to indulge you.

Sit back, relax, and just read. This is my life as I see fit to post it here and share. Some reflections, some current situations, some past...100% truth. Fact is far more entertaining than fiction.

Here we go...