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What doesn't **** you
makes you dangerous.
~SacredInkedBlood
©2018 by VenjencieCliftonAronold
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=2273218386230849&id=2253944324824922
You may walk in the same storm with another, Under the same sky feeling the same rain but that doesn't mean you've endured their pain.

    Before you assume that you're above them, Consider the lightening when it does strike...
that it doesn't consider one's mere stature or height.
~Author Ven J. Arnold
(SacredInkedBlood)
copyright 2018 Ven Jencie Clifton Arnold
True. It's a hard long fall of that high horse you may be riding. Circumstances change all the time. Don't be so quite to judge.
"Same Creator"
See that woman standing on the street corner with hardly any clothes on to wear, that's me you see there,
See that rich white woman in that movie, that's me on TV,
See that girl with the pretty skin that you called a ******, that's me & I'm no different,
See that old woman there that you make fun of because she forgot her name, that's me all the same,
See the girl in the fancy dress with all the fancy things abound, that's me safe & sound,
See that woman in the uniform with dust & debris, that's me sent overseas,
See that woman that preaches about God, that's me talking about Jesus,
See I'm every woman & I'm every girl no matter where she came from, no matter her skin color, no matter where she's born and no matter her circumstances because we're all from the same Creator,
So no one is less and no one is greater! ~SacredInkedBlood ©11/18
©2018 Anna Ven Jencie Clifton Arnold
Also Author Ven J. Arnold on FB. We all bleed the same. We all have the same Creator.
you're so high,
white glowing light,
I'll never let you go,
always blowing me kisses from the sky,
I send you kisses,
we're two in one,
you know all of my secrets,
we'll be together every night,
you've always been there,
you always stay until the sun shows up,
protecting me through the night,
every night,
white glowing light,
you're so high.

Now read from last line back up to the first.
~SacredInkedBlood ©112718 via Ven Jencie Clifton Arnold
The moon, my white glowing light, stayed with me my whole life when I was lone and afraid up in the sky you always laid. You knew all my secrets & what happened in our house at night and you still returned to stay with me every night.
Nothing changes no matter how you try. Change your perspective... see it from another view they say. They must not know in the world I'm a slave to stay. Nothing changes, nothing gets better, just let me die one day soon, and when I try to see it out but it didn't go as planned and I'm still barely alive, do me a favour and walk on by so that death may shortly take me away. Thank you.
Nothing does. Not for me. I'm tired and I'm exhausted. Seeing others mistreated and I have no way to make it stop. Not can I stop the injustice to me. Is it too much to wish to have your hair done at least once a year or 2, is it too much to have a pretty yard to gaze at the beautiful buttterfies and birds, is it too much to expect for your husband to touch to in a way a man that touches her to make her feel like a woman more than every 7 or 8 months. I give up or I want to but got to get the courage and knowledge to do it right.
Where do I begin? I'm lost. So much is personal you see. I had apps and apps full of feelings, moods, poems, my stories and goings on saved onto my device. Now these apps suddenly disappeared, so I downloaded them only to discover they won't reappear! I don't understand, I can't comprehend. I didn't memorize all of those months in some and years in others to recall so I can't just rewrite. Sure instead I could've used paper & pen & locked them away from peering eyes elsewhere but guess what notebooks on top of of notebooks from all my years also to did the act of a disappear. Yes, burned in my house fire with most of my prized possessions that were photos of some but the photos that meant the most were the photos of a man that loved me most and loved me more than any other could, my dad. My dad the man that died & left me to a cruel family that could only hate... only hate me that is. I was so little when he died and I never understood why I wasn't allowed to take that ride to death... with him. Anyone reading this by chance, do you know how I can get the content in those apps back? If I write the things I wrote there esp of recent events then you'd think it's an improper way to vent not being in poetic form and such. It's pretty weird, different and personal too, but my wounds are deep and writing them gave some relief. Now they've disappeared.
No poetry here, just asking for help that'd be much appreciated. Thanks and blessings.
All gone, it's all gone and I'm a mess over it. If I can't keep a journal on paper for fear of fire again not on a writing app where does that leave me to ink the poison out if it's just a journal, diary, feelings with no reason and rhyme. Author Ven J. Arnold
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