wannabamama1

I look back and I can see clearly my path that has brought me to where I am and placed hard earned tools in my hands to deal with the task's at hand today. I started born into a tornado, it whipped my infant arm's and leg's leaving long wind burns. I was dumped into an ocean from my tornado birthright and quickly I had to learn to swim, hard. The ocean held many danger's. Sharks were always never far away, if I had given myself a moment to cry my tears would attract them, like vultures. The waves were high and strong and they bashed my tiny body against coral reefs of desperation and neglect. When I crawled out of the ocean I was still a child, I can clearly see my tiny foot print in the sand. I crawled, I staggered and I stood.

My path wound me around in a forest dense with regret, through a desert thirsty for love, and head first into puberty row. It was then that I was most in danger. So young and unprepared for life's continued harshness yet out there, experiencing it with no limit on what I would do to please, to be accepted, to be loved. I was dragged from my destiny towards a strange new scary yet exciting place by my "friends". I was used till there was nothing left to give and then I would give some more. Freedom was found in heart break because no matter how false their "love" was for me, my love for them was true.

Out early on good behavior from puberty row I thought I had it all figured out. I thought the answer was love. But love comes in different forms and the one I had chosen to share mine with wanted nothing more than an emotional punching bag. Love, I had decided was not the answer after all. My path soon it became apparent had become less a path and more of a circle. I would continue that roundabout for a few years.

A splash of emotional abuse, doubt of my self, a good heaping helping of physical abuse and a year later, for the first time in my life I'm headed somewhere, I'm in charge.

I'm finding freedom, I'm finding independence. Who cares that I'm hungry and have to make 2 bags of top ramen and a can of...peas last till pay day... who cares that my bed is cold and I'm lonely. I'm not in pain. My heart hurts from my past scars and my soul cry's bitter tears in my dreams over the wrond doings and the loss of my innocent rights. But now... right that moment, there was no abuse, there was no oceans or tornados, forests, or deserts... just me.

My independance cut short, someone needed me. SOMEONE NEEDED ME. He was just as lost, and scared, and alone in his heart as I was. And while his path intertwined with my own crisscrossing across our mutual galaxy's we did not meet till the right time for us.

And here I am. I am no hero, I am not a person to follow. I have simply survived what was delt to me and what I in my ignorance delt myself. There are harder stories than my own and my heart goes out to those fighting those deamons off. Deamons in the shape of diamond tears that break off painfully from your soul, fall, and shatter in the empty lonlyness of the heart.

I see you, head bent as you walk past, feeling as if you must take the smallest space, as if you don't deserve to shine, as if you don't belong. I hear you, crying out your window to the twinkling stars, I feel you, the strumming of your tiny hope reverberates to my own.