My Reason Why

Freshman year talent show - September 2025

I found this in a book of poetry and have no idea how long ago this was written. 

She sat by herself; feeling lonely, but secure.  Secure in knowing that she could trust no one but her own self.  Well, herself and God. But even the God factor had been questioned.  I mean, she never learned to trust those physically there, so the belief that someone she could not see nor feel could be more trustworthy had always been a hard thought to grasp.  She knew that her circle had much love for her.  I mean, it wasn’t the idea of love that she had a problem with.  Although the issue of trust somehow misguided the way she expressed and interpreted love.  The love of her friends and family didn’t mean that she could always count on them.  She learned that lesson at an early age.  People are fallible.  This truth was obtained from those who conceived her.  Humanly good intentions can still yield undesired results. No matter how good the heart of a person, they can still hurt you.  She knew this well.  So even in her loving, she rarely let her guard down.  There were times when she did and regretted it, so she kept that in her mental records.

 She never let any man get the best of her.  I mean, her friends thought she was just joking when she said she’d never been in love, but she wasn’t.  She never freely gave her heart because all of the men she had been involved with were, in her mind, unworthy of it.  She could never take relationships too seriously because she had a certain level of expectation of a man who would be worth spending her life with, and none of them had met that criteria.  It wasn’t that she was unreasonable in her expectations of a man.  She had simply been raised to believe a certain way, and she had yet to come across someone who could compliment her as equally as she would him.  Although her desire for affection had caused her to violate her own boundaries a few times, she never let them get the best of her; always remaining in control and ending things on her own account.  At least she liked to think that none of them had affected her.  But the truth was that, with each encounter something was taken from her soul and deposited from that man just the same.  She just was unwilling to admit, even to herself, that these men had changed her perception on love, life, relationships and left her with issues that needed to be addressed. 

 Still Scattering These Thoughts.... 

You'll never again see tears fall down my face

I learned decades ago that you will never be a safe space

I held onto hope that change may come

Held on so long and so hard that I have become numb

And our conversations aren't conversations

Just holding a bit of space and air as long as we can consume the awkwardness of the moment

I'm not sure what you want from me....

What Aaliyah Said

Tears stay hidden, so I guess I'll cry inside

A little bit of me leaves me each time I neglect myself

Feels like I've died inside

A thousand deaths, but continue to resurrect

Each time stronger, no each time weaker

No each time a seeker of what brought me here in the first place

Still seeking the cause and the solution

I'm lost here

We need a resolution

06/10/2026

 Anxiety lives in me like I invited it here

Took me almost to the age of 45 to realize

That my life has been driven by fear

How much more praying can I do,

In hope that things will change?

I've even tried therapy because I'm aware 

That I need to rewire my brain

But I'm constantly fighting, almost instinctively

I've been bound by things that plague me

I'm just trying to be free

January 2026

Hello Change

 I don't want to keep being this version of me

But there's the pain of change versus the pain of staying the same

And I know which one should lead

But the other refuses to die

Still hanging on

Although its hold is weakening, it is desperate for life

But its life brings me death so it has to die

Okay Change

I'm with you

But this may take a few tries

August 30, 2024

APRIL POEMS..... SOMETIME AROUND 2013

Each word is an internal struggle to put on paper

It used to be so easy

Writing was my refuge, my relief, my savior

My pens bled my soul on paper and allowed me to cope like some use razors on skin to bleed their pains

Somehow instead of releasing I began to bottle everything inside

Killing myself slowly with the toxins I refused to expel

Holding my soul

My depths

My breathe

Waiting

To Exhale

Unconsciously avoiding emotional overload

Tears no longer stain my pillows at night because these eyes do not allow emotions to become tangible

Everything has been buried so deep and hidden for so long

I barely remember the person I used to be

Writing is a reminder

A glimpse into what was

And what could have been

Clues to who I refuse to allow myself to become

Fighting God, destiny and me

Because deep down this suppressed version of who I was slowly gasps for breath

Holding onto life and refusing to succumb to an untimely demise

Maintaining hope that my pen will once again find its way to a pad of paper 

And every stroke is like the  beeping of a heart monitor

Growing stronger and stronger

Showing proof of life

This frail shell of who I used to be

Refusing to let go

Refusing to be suffocated by the lies she was told

By the mistakes she made

Or the snares of her enemy’s throws

She knows who she is and refuses to let her sins name her

Refused to let her misguided actions dictate her destiny

Even if this feeble housing cannot yet see

“Write on” she whispers

“Let your soul cry

Let it bleed its very DNA onto that paper and remind you of what you once knew

Let it breathe life back into your dreams and expectations

As blood spills and cleanses, let it wash away every doubt and lie told

Let your own words comfort and hold

Cradle your every emotion and bring you back to life

Your spirit, she’s gaining strength and now it’s time for you to fight.”