No Right Answer
It feels wrong to think that he's better off without her, but those are her words, not mine. I may have thought them, but she said them out loud.
Sad truth is, he will always have belonged to her first, but maybe he is better off without her. I'm the one picking up the pieces, doing the work, cleaning up the messes. I'm the one who considers what's best for him, makes his well-being a priority.
And yet, I encourage that relationship. Is that the right thing to do? If all she's going to do is hurt him repeatedly, shouldn't I try to protect him? But maybe that's not my call to make, because she did have him first.
So I choose to be the one who stays, because she's not coming back. I make the healthiest home I can for my him, because his first mother doesn't have one to give him.
#challenge #adoption #family #addiction #mentalhealth #redemption #reclamation
Up warm, watch form
Straight spine, tight line
French terms, tendon firms
Arabesque pose, body prose
Muscle stretch, memory etch
Rehearse steps, several reps
Down cool, health rule
Body tired, brain wired
So sore, need more
Deep aching, dream waking
Leotard, practice hard
Grasp barre, reach far
Every gain worth the pain
Guess whose toe shoes
Pirhouette speed, performance lead
Stage light, recital night
Music plays, torso sways
Breathe deep, high leap
Happy sigh, who am I
Found my answer, I'm a dancer
@avcm_ #challenge #poetry #ballet #dance
Let him go.
He came back to me.
The Lost Letter
It should have been a simple request, Grandad asking her to help settle her late grandmother's affairs, but page after page fluttered in Victorie's trembling hands as her disbelieving gaze took in the stack of papers that apparently no one else had ever read.
Dear Sweet Boy, even after all these years, the memory of your hand holding mine is daily my waking thought...
Her grandmother had seemed an open book, and Victorie had been closer to her than anyone, but who was this Dear Sweet Boy to whom Myrena had written undelivered letters for longer than Victorie had even been alive?
Fear, not hate, is the opposite of love. Reject fear. Just love, and be loved.
The Star I Wished Upon
The star I'd wished on came to see
And wiped away a tear from me
The child I'd wished for I'd received
He was as precious as could be
I'd held him for a little while
And every day adored his smile
It was forever I believed
But now my heart is put on trial
So overwhelmed by former years
And overcome by countless fears
Addiction had my boy deceived
And had reduced us both to tears
The star's light glimmered in the black
She whispered though I felt attack
That I would not always be grieved
And promised my son will come back
Keeping it together with a smile on her face
She doesn’t just meet expectations
She exceeds them
She doesn’t just raise the bar
She sets it
It isn’t even hard
But even those closest to her can’t tell
They don’t know
How alone she is
Maybe because it’s those closest to her
Who say she means the most to them
But never consider how she feels
Are too busy to lend a hand
Take her for granted
Make light of the things that matter the most to her
Worst of all those who promised forever
The same ones who hurt her the most
How could she have known that forever
Would be so empty
Every day I look her in the eye
She appears so happy
But I’m the only one who knows
This heartbreaking secret
About the girl in the mirror:
No one loves her
No, I answered, I didn't have my own Nativity set.
"You find one you love, Sissy, and I'll buy it for you," Nannie said, and apologized once more for the pet name because I was grown with my own family. But I loved my grandmother dearly and she could call me whatever she wanted.
Season after season I searched for just the right creche. After so much time had gone by I figured she had forgotten, till one day she asked me again. No, I told her, I still hadn't found the perfect Baby Jesus scene.
"When you find one, let me know," she said. "I want it to be a gift from me."
Nannie passed away before I ever found the ideal Mary and Joseph figurines.
Every holiday season after she died, it felt bittersweet to put up my Christmas tree and remember that she had wanted to give me my own infant Savior in a manger.
Year after year, box by box, my mother and uncle sorted through Nannie's belongings. Being the only granddaughter and having the largest family, I was often given first choice. Did I want Nannie's Tupperware? Her china with the tiny pink roses? Her silverware set?
Did I want Nannie's holiday decorations? The rest of the family couldn't use them. Some had too small of a house. Others didn't celebrate Christmas. They were all mine if I wished.
There were two snow globes, each a different artistic interpretaion of the Holy Family. One tiny pewter Madonna and her betrothed, with her newborn in the hay. A palm-sized porcelain shed containing the Child and the parents. And there was Nannie's ceramic Nativity with the little wooden barn. Every piece was there, including the shepherds and their sheep, the Magi and their camels. The donkey, a cow, and an angel with outstretched arms. Five Nativity scenes in all, and just what I would have chosen.
Madagascar, Escape 2 Africa
If I, King Julien (that's my name), only had two days left to live, I would do all the things I have ever dreamed of doing. I would love to become a professional whistler. I'm pretty amazing at it now, but I wanna get, like, even better. Make my living out of it. And you know what else I would do? I would...invade a neighboring country, and impose my own ideology even if they didn't want it!
Rope burns on my palms and neck
Those behind beg don't let go
Uphill the entire trek
Each step painfully slow
Put in front to hold the line
Because I know the way
But pace is slow and fault is mine
Because I lead the fray
Progress slows when those behind
Start digging in their heel
They fear I may be blind
And they give in to what they feel
Two steps forward, one to rear
Wish someone else could lead
Those behind curse in my ear
Throw stones until I bleed
It should have been a simple quest
With only one design
Deliver this crowd to the crest
Where we can all resign
If those behind would step with me
If we could share the weight
How speedy our ascent would be
The distance not so great
But those behind fight, one and all
The climb to liberty
I'll cut the rope and let them fall
And just deliver me