Who said that you can’t dance to no music?

Who labeled you taboo?

Whose lens are you viewing YOU from?

That runner in you,

Who’s that runner running from?

Rumbling through the streets of rejection,

Ignoring a reflection that is true

Are you seeing yourself like they are,

Or can you see yourself as YOU?

I want to dance in the street to music,

Downtown around people like me.

I want to beat drums from foreign lands,

Open up and tap into those healthy and natural inhibitions.

One thing we ought not do

Is make being human so taboo.

I can

Feel a rhythm in my spirit

I can hear joy,

Even if you can’t hear it.


Makes me

Wanna move and feel

My pulse become electric

And if they look and laugh,

Because to them the atmosphere is silent,

That is not restricting me,

Some guidelines of society are a bit much

Maybe I am not too normal,


More like a spontaneous utterance of freedom

Much like scribbling beyond the margins of notebook paper.

I cannot keep defining myself based on the reflections

And perceptions of others.

It creates too much of an internal struggle.

No more fantasizing happiness.

I have it and can keep it.


That is wealth.

That is success.

Voilà Moment

“Individuals on the journey eventually find themselves experiencing a baptism by fire. It’s that moment when they are just about to lose their lives and they miraculously, courageously find the answer that gives their life meaning. And that meaning, that answer, saves them.”

– Viola Davis

In chapter one of “Finding Me,” Viola Davis speaks on her purpose. And how much bigger her purpose is than what she thought it was during her childhood. Letting go of expectations of society and removing self in order to tune into the purpose that God placed on her life. Remarkable! For even in our faults our journeys can inspire others.

For even in our faults,

We can inspire others!

We? Can inspire others? Our purpose is bigger than us. Our purpose is bigger than US?

Yes! Years of therapy, years of not really knowing myself, years of not LOVING me, but ME?

I- I can?

I can. And I will.

But letting go of that fear, SHIT! How?

All I ever wanted to do was write. I longed to highlight the keys to the very things I did not feel inside. I wanted to help people, interview homeless people, feed them, help them with housing. I dreamed of writing for the Winston-Salem Journal. I dreamed of making a difference, not so much Captain Planet style, but more like Robin Hood and like saving abused and sad orphans like Annie, as my very childlike perceptions of those stories on the TV fed the humanitarian in me. In between breaks of the fantasy world of Disney movies, I nurtured the side of me that wanted to make a positive impact on the world around me. I wanted to help troubled youth and struggling families for I knew a lot about what they were feeling inside. I knew the impact of the cries a mother makes at night when she thinks her kids are asleep, as she is tired, overworked and underpaid but has no time to focus on her problems because she’s taking care of her kids on her own.

I look around and I see the busy hustle and bustle of the daily chase and rush to – I don’t know where everyone is in such a rush to go. Or to be. But yes, I was in that rush. Internally.

I wanted to help people. I wouldn’t know until my mid-thirties that I needed to have first helped myself so that my voice could be more effective. I think that the initial fueling of the flame helped to continue reminding me of my potential, for I admittedly became lost in my own troubles and sorrows and “woe is me” modes. No matter how deep I submerged myself, no matter how many times I attempted to drown, that darn fire kept igniting and alerting my subconscious, my spirit, my heart.

And today I can firmly state:

There is no more fighting my purpose.

Over time these sparks of ideas, goals, callings. They wouldn’t freaking stop!

No matter how perceived, I must continue to follow what I am destined to do. It is bigger than me. And always has been. Cliché but illumination in a realm of darkness is hard to ignore. And a pursuit of normalcy is still a bore, anyway.

Voilà Moment

Metaphoric Dream State

I’ll be among those who admit:

“So many times I tried to ignore it.”

That voice, that intuition,

That spiritual guidance that reminds us of our missions.

But in my dream, I saw a raven.

Was it similar to Poe’s grief, the underlying message?

Or, for me, was it a symbol of rebirth?

For in my dream a dark ship sailed,

It bobbed up and down in the ocean

As if it were no bigger than a child’s ball in a bathtub.

Feelings of defeat began to surface.

Was I worth this?

For surely a deep sense of loss has overcome me

Hanging like a dark cloud I almost wish would engulf me.

Surely a sense of loneliness comes quite often.

Water is healing,

Truth is often hidden,

But life eventually does the revealing.

The raven was carved into the bow of the ship.

This bird was its guide

And sure I thought the ship would plummet 

Into the dark waters of that night,


Suddenly there was a light.


The eyes

Of the raven


As it provided guiding light,

A sense of bravery overcame me as I slept.

Tears of joy, tears of gratitude. 


I woke up, saw my sleeping baby, 

Thanked God, 

And went back to sleep.

I write POETRY

 I write poetry.

There are many things I could do in my spare time,

But I write poetry.

There are many things I could splurge on, I could spend recklessly 

But the only investment that fills these internal voids

Is writing poetry.

No matter what job title I have ever held no matter what diagnosis was listed, 

No matter the degree obtained or meekly sought after,

No matter how eloquent how well stated no matter the rhymes of time or how the form of life presents, 

No matter how centered nature walks make me,

After prayer and failed attempts to meditate,

After opening my heart to God, wishing I could negotiate

Realizing that I am not in control here: 

What I can control is that I write poetry.

I can hope and pray for the “big break” someday, but whether that comes or not, I’ll still write poetry.

And maybe one day they laugh and they’ll say: “Remember that wild crazy chick? Man she sure could write poetry.”

An ode to motherhood

Becoming a mother at a young age –

Challenging, yes.

Lack of sleep, mapping out my goals to coincide with the tasks ahead – which I had no idea what it meant other than

“I’m going to have a cute little baby. And then I’ll graduate high school.”

There are tips and tricks and hacks and advice and recommendations across the board

Generations of “don’t do this”


“You better do that”

None of it could have prepared me.

Now – there were times when I didn’t think I was good enough,

Making a way out of no way, pursuing careers, getting an education,

Breaking down thinking I should do more – not realizing that I was already a hero of sorts.

I keep my shortcomings real and through growth and transparency- you all, my three

Will continue to be proud of me. Never again will my own personal struggles stand in the way or potentially jeopardize your futures.

For a leader is not the one who is or seeks to be perfect.

In her actions, in her mistakes, in her lessons learned –

That my sons, my daughter, is how I lead my home.

Love truth respect

I am a safe place

You’ll never forget.

I said it before and I’ll say it again,

My transparency is clear to prevent you from having to heal from me.

An ode to motherhood.

For the moments that cannot be summarized quite right

Isn’t that something…

There is a point in life in which we realize that the journey isn’t always smooth,

It may seem as though bleakness is destined,

We may search for ways to soothe and compensate for what we feel is lacking,

Entering stages in which comparison blinds us.


For what is work without sacrifice,

How can we recognize light if we know not the dark?


Exquisite ventures, endeavors contemplated,

But if not put into action, they remain dreams,

Thus stagnated

Memories of things we wanted to do,

Engulfed in fantasy, losing sight of you.



If you listen to your heart,

Focus on your vision,

Take in the moments,

Allow your growth to glisten


Dimming not the fire,

But knowing when to apply it.

Enlist in the right fights

Take in the lessons of the sleepless nights


Don’t let the door to your passions come off the hinge

But if anything –

Allow elevation, faith and belief in self be the thing to infringe.


**(Please visit home page of blog to view video presentation of this poem.)**

It’s probably the scariest assignment once I wake up and think about it. 

Days away from 17, months away from teenagehood, months away from completing the first year of life.

I said before that there are, in fact, past versions of myself that I do not want my sons or my baby girl to be like. That I will always be a safe place for them and keep it real. I also don’t hide that it took decades for me to choose to heal.

Black sheep, an outsider, inside her (me) was a very hurt child.

I used this platform to display growth and healing, never anticipating the depths of what I would discover about myself. 

There is no book for this. 

I have had my fair share of lovers, some great in which I was not ready for, and others but another notch on my belt of bad experiences.

If anything, as the winter approaches, as life comes full circle and I have solidified even more reason to walk my own path, I now acknowledge the power of words. 

Words that I have used to inspire, words that I have used to hurt others like explosive darts.

Protecting MY heart with a harmful ego struggle, years 13 to 18 for me were not stable but even in my identity struggles, deep down that empathic heart was still warm and vibrant.

I must refrain from dispensing too much of  my energy. There are many historical references whose works showed promise from isolation. That has been the most difficult part when you use the term “social butterfly” to cover up the truth of “I define my identity and self worth based on those I am around.” 

But when I found myself after a detox from the world, I see and I state: 

I am ready to do it right, my sons, my baby girl.

SELF … Love???

This is the part that no preacher no teacher no therapist no spiritual guide, no career no educational degree can do for me.

Self love will reveal that you can love in a healthy manner.

Self love will reveal that if it’s not conducive to your growth and well-being, that you don’t have to accept it.

Self love will show you that you can, and always could have said “NO” to maintain your mental, physical and emotional well-being.

Self love enables you to be a better you for your children.

Self love lets you reflect so that you can see what led you down certain paths.

Self love will guard you and arm you with awareness so as not to flirt with self sabotage.

As I keep myself in check and question who or what in me needs to be heard the most in order to stop ignoring and collecting red flags in almost every single interpersonal relationship…

As I in fact still try to paint them white…

Which, metaphorically seems to be a statement of surrender and a declaration of my own defeat…

I remember –

If I can keep a vow to myself then I can in turn keep a vow to my children.

Leading by example is no longer optional.

What’s worse? A faulty hypocritical leader or the those who follow said individual?

I stand tall in my own mistakes, ten toes down rather than facing up. Full of gratitude for life.

This is the part that no preacher no teacher no therapist no spiritual guide no career no educational degree can do for me.


They didn’t say-

They didn’t say that healing journeys were such a task,

That the very things I have always lacked: CONSISTENCY, DISCIPLINE, AWARENESS, and even ACCOUNTABILITY-

Are required. They didn’t say

That at times I would question why I chose to do the hard work the uncomfortable internal work

They didn’t say that tests would keep coming my way.

They didn’t say that I would view life and all people in mine through a different lens,

A new set of eyes,

Albeit another childlike perception.

That the waves of gratitude

The wonderful moments with my children

Survivor mentality less a victim …

The newfound confidence and self love

The heightened self esteem…

They didn’t say that while these things are wonderful,

That the journey of letting go of past hurts and old versions of self…

They didn’t say that releasing comfort zones in patterns … that this part would hurt a little too

They didn’t mention the task of finding YOU again

Finding ME

Digging deep, learning how to stand firm in healthy boundaries,

Although they didn’t say many things

And this isn’t all glamour and nature walks and prayer and meditation…

I am grateful for where I am in this journey.

But, yea-

They didn’t say….


Childlike views of the world

Naïve perspectives

Inferiority complexes


Self worth


God complexes

Survival mode reflexes



Hope in humanity




Feed me

Feel me

Teach me

Mold me

Fix me

Who –

Is –


Physical release.


Sober realities.

Leave me

Stay with me

Pray with me

Hurt me again.


Different physical body,

Same story.

Here we go


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