My waiting seemed like an eternity
While you just took your time
No matter how many times I paused
You fell further behind.
It must have been more interesting
More important to say at least
The things that capture your attention
And made you slow your feet.
How many times did I come back
And try to take your hand
To move you past the obstacles
And get to where I am
But you always chose the detours
Content to let me run
A journey made for two
A destination for only one.
Objects in the rear view mirror
Became so small I couldn’t see
There was only my reflection
Staring back at me.
I threw the map out the window
Pushed the pedal to the floor
Set myself on cruise control
I’m looking back no more.
RaenellDawn 02/06/2017
Month: February 2018
Sometimes, 2 am is silent, and I can not find my voice. We creep along the shadows barely daring a glance. For in those quiet recesses, lie the demons we were given.
3 am whispers…hush, do not disturb their fitful slumber. Stand still for a moment, let them ease back down. Even they, at times, are exhausted from torment.
4 am watches closely. Challenging your next step with a smirk. Knowing it can pull you in but letting you make the first move.
5 am is full of laughter. Taunts, there she goes again. Pretending she’s a warrior in a battle she won’t win.
6 am smiles gently. Offering up solace from her mind. A gentle kiss to her forehead, she made it through this time.
7 am pulls her from the fading dark. Inviting her to rest in its fenced in park.
RaenellDawn 12/24/2016
Empty Houses
You can’t open my doors
My windows are blacked out
I sit lonely on a street
Forgotten all about.
My floors are stripped bare
My walls are peeling
The rooms are empty
What a hollow feeling.
Everything’s been packed
And stored in the attic
Done in haste
Completely erratic.
Trunks of memories
Pictures galore
Little mementos
That matter no more.
Meaningless faces
Stare back to see
Whose holding the camera
Almost always me.
Caretakers abandoned
In the dead of night
Said I am haunted
After disconnecting the lights.
The hallowed ground
Where nobody treads
Now briars and brambles
The flowers are dead.
My thick foundation
Is on solid ground
It supports the beams
To which I am bound.
If you should see me
While out for a drive
You need only to knock
I might let you inside.
If you are trepid
And stay on the walk
Move along quickly
My walls won’t talk.
RaenellDawn 12/08/2016
2 a.m.
I love 2 a.m,
It’s the best part of the day
Pen and paper wait excitedly
To what I have to say.
My entire world is quite
Surrounded by the night
I can lower my guard
And let out some light.
I can sort it all out
When my mind finally slows
Pack away the thoughts
That nobody knows.
I can speak without fear
And have no remorse
At the raw, honest words
Through pen and paper of course.
I don’t have to edit
Or close caption a word
Letting lose emotions
That nobody heard.
There’s freedom in writing
It cleanses my soul
A redemption of sorts
In just letting go
Perhaps one day
Someone will find
These pages I keep
And can read my mind.
They’ll read my books
And finally understand
I’m only “me”
At 2 a.m
RaenellDawn 12/02/2016
My Shadow
I talk to her everyday. I pour out everything that’s been going through my head between the hours of waking and sleeping.
My words don’t require explanations, there are no rebuttals. She’s never said “that doesn’t make sense”, or “you shouldn’t feel like that”. I rely on her for validation.
She understands the darkness, the fear, the confusion, the humor, the love that I feel so deeply. I’m always safe with her. She has watched me give so much of myself away and then chastised me for doing so. She scolded me for dumb ideas, said “I told you so” a hundred times. She laughs at my fashion faux paux, reminds me to check the speedometer. She pushes me forward when I need it, holds me in place when I want to go. Lends a hand when I fall down, and holds both hands over my mouth when I want to speak without processing.
We don’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes we argue for days. But she’s there when I lay my head down and holding my coffee when I wake up.
Most will never know her, and that’s ok, she’s always right beside me leading the way.
The one that swore
“I’ll always have your back”
Always behind me
Is where my shadow is at.
RaenellDawn 11/27/2016
A Castle Grown Cold
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Under a winter coat
My emotions behind walls
Surrounded by a moat.
Pictures line the halls
Their history in the books
Though everyone is interested
Nobody really looks.
They see only dust
A castle grown cold
Spiderwebs in corners
Memories of the old.
I stand on a cliff
Overlooking the sea
Longing for a lighthouse
To shine it’s light on me.
Dark as midnight
The storm blows in
The water rises
Carried by the wind.
Alone I fight
On this vacant shore
Until one day
I can fight no more.
There will come a storm
Mightier than me
That will crumble these walls
And wash them out to sea.
RaenellDawn 11/23/2016
My Mom
November 15, 2015
I remember like it was yesterday…I was 13 years old. I got in an argument with my mama and stormed out of the house. All the way to our little city park, I ranted and raved inside my head. Continuing with the montage of words that had gone unsaid.
I have no recollection what precisely the argument was about, but I remember screaming “I hate you, I want my daddy”. I recall exactly where I was standing when I had the thought that all kids do at some point in their life…”I already know everything there is to know”.
I was 27 years old and a mother myself the first time I regretted that day.
All of the emotions that make up LIFE…Love, Laughter, Pain, Fear, Sorrow, Regret, Grief…each one teaches us a lesson. Sometimes, they are tests that we must repeat until we get it right.
I think it was this day that I learned to hold my words, because you can’t take them back. Saying “I’m sorry” is only a bandaid, the scar will always be there with the wounds resonating in your mind.
My mama taught this foolishly naive girl so very much that day, and the handprint I carried on my face for a month, drove those lessons home.
To this day, there are still times when I have continuing arguments within myself, and out of nowhere I will feel the sting of mamas hand across my face. Only then do I find clarity.
My mom only had an eighth grade education. She got married and had five babies at her feet by the time she was 23. She could ace Jeopardy and knew so much about the world and life that I am still in awe of her. She was the smartest woman I’ve ever known.
From my little brother….
Dear Abby: I think we should meet the Woman you described in your short story reminded me of my mother. That sting across your face would land a loving parent in jail in todays world.
Where have all the good mothers gone. I know God BLESS TEXAS!
A Mother’s Lesson
As a parent, you can’t help but to live a little vicariously through your children. After all, you are responsible for them. Their accomplishments make you proud. Their wounds hurt you. But for a mom, it is so much more than “we gave birth” to them. There is an invisible umbilical cord that is never severed, though instead of providing life to the child, it sustains life for the mother. Take it away and we no longer possess the ability to function independently.
As our children grow up, every decision they make, people reflect onto the mother. Nobody, more so, than the mother herself. As the child pulls away, makes decisions on their own, the mother feels solely responsible. She questions every decision she ever made. Her nights are spent lying awake thinking “if I had only done that”, ” what did I do wrong”, “how did I fail”.
It’s almost impossible for the mother to come to terms with the inevitable fact that “children, as they grow, make their own choices in life”. They too must learn by their own experiences and mistakes. All we can do is stand there feeling helpless while wanting desperately to save them. Then along comes the lesson of tough love. I always thought this applied to the child. Instead, it is a final lesson for the mother. It’s the hardest test we’ve ever been faced with. There’s no study guide, no manual to look back on, we didn’t take notes to prepare ourselves for this and nobody told us that everything we taught our children would be a Final Exam that we had to receive a 100% on.
RaenellDawn 01/28/2016
Used to be You
Some days are for writing
The story within
And one never knows
Where it will begin
You’re pushed from sleep
In the wee morning hour
Paper and pen
Have gained full power
As words fall down
Onto a blank page
Leaving a legacy
In what you must say.
You speak to the world
Those that will listen
Not all understand
Why your pages glisten.
Nobody ever saw
When your tears would fall
They remember your smile
But knew nothing at all
Of the torture your demons
Made you suffer each day
For if they had noticed
What would you say?
Would you grab their shoulders
Turning them to see
Your shattered pieces splayed out
While you whisper “that’s me”.
Gently picking each shard
Up off the floor
Then you have to explain
Why it doesn’t fit anymore.
They can’t comprehend
Because your skin is unmarred
That all of these fragments
Left behind deep scars.
Physical abuse
Is preferable you see
To the emotional damage
That does not bleed.
There’s no scabbing over
Or white scar left behind
And there’s so many pieces
Of you…you can’t find.
And then there are those
You stare at confused
Your mind in denial
…that used to be you.
Now they’re laying there
In a crumbled heap
And you’ve no idea
Which ones to keep.
Will they ever fit
Back into place
And the smile you force
Can never erase
The battles you’ve fought
And barely survived
All your prayers to God
Asking him why…
Then as the sun
Begins to rise
HE softly whispers
“You are my light”
“I had to take those pieces
Away from you so
Others that suffer
Knew the way to go”
“So write it all down
It’s just another book
Teach everyone
What it took.”
To climb up out of
Your Hell on Earth
Let your story be written
So they can read your words.
RaenellDawn 01/27/2018
Salute You
Here’s to those that said, they’d always be here,
But I woke to find them gone
And the words that came as promise’s
Vanished with the dawn
I raise my cup to salute you
An acknowledgment of sorts
Knowing they were never worthy
And I deserve so much more.
The wine tells me I’m a loner
Always meant to go as one
As my crystal reflection stares at me
Cast by the setting sun.
I hold my head high
For I stayed the course
Accepting true love
Doesn’t exist anymore
And the moon that bares witness
To every shattered dream
Hangs low in the morning
So paths can be seen
fear not the dark
The moments of despair
For when the sun rises
You’ll see your shadow there
Holding your hand
Pulling you through
no matter what
All you’ve got is you
So square your shoulders
Find your grit
Hear the beat of your drum
This is it
Your life laid before you
You will march on
And your shadow will dance
This is your song.
RaenellDawn 02/02/2018