I'm not all that good,
I'm not all that bad,
Maybe one day,
I'm as bad as a person can be,
Maybe on another day,
I'm one of the best you can meet,

Raised in a small town,
Where people gossip
from sun up to sun down,
Brought up poor in a broken
family, only added more,

When I'm out and about,
I get those judgemental stares,
with whispers of, "she's hopeless,
she's beyond repair,

I get worked up so
I purposely give them a reason to
gasp for air,

Of course they all claim to be Christians,
The type that choose clean blue water
to be baptised in,
But I was baptised in muddy water
and I'm glad to say," hey listen up,
I was baptised in muddy water so
I guess that makes me too ***** for
your kind?"

Then I smile to myself because
I know  something they must not,
JESUS WAS BAPTISED IN MUDDY
WATERS, as well.
I imagine it kind of went like this:
Upon meeting Jesus, John said: "I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me? I imagine Jesus told John it was only right to do so, I can imagine John trying to convince Jesus to at least let him find cleaner waters but Jesus knew so He refused.

You see in the time of Jesus’s baptism, the Jordan river and surrounding areas was no less than now, a river full of muck, *****, muddy, and gross looking, you can’t see two inches into it today nor could you then.

These very people called Christians are the same people who judge so harshly, through the centuries they've compared Jesus's baptism to our own,  with an understandable preference for the clear waters of a Blue Hole over the muddy waters of the Jordan and beyond,

So yeah, I'm all messed up in the head,
Better the head than the heart,
But you've already judged my part.

So if you ever run out stuff to gossip about, just think back and remember,
the small town girl that was baptised in muddy water.
- Author Ven J Arnold / SacredInkedBlood

Cowards: Men who kick a woman(esp. after he's the 1 that drug her down).  You'd never suspect
it's the men with a good reputation around town.  If they're true & through bad they don't fight only women but their fist are enough for anyone who angers them enough... he'll try to take anyone down.
BUT it's a pure yellow-bellied coward sort that doesn't have what it takes to stand up to another, not for himself much less any other.
Lowest **** of all cowards are the ones who kick her like she's
a dog when she's on the ground,
  standing up over her like a tall tower,
feeling proud with
power.
If or when it's found out then she deserved it all. Oh yeah, without a doubt especially if she's already been down the abuse pattern route.    
When he kills her; appears justified because they say, she should have gotten out before she died.
But sure enough, it's a pure coward that'll kick
a woman & tell her that he should stomp her brain's out.  
     SCREAMING at her
     FORCING her to
answer his questions  when she's already too frightened to make a sound...
              knowing that no matter the answer she decides, it's just another excuse for him to slap her around, why? Because of course whatever answer will be
a lie,
I guess a coward must
be able to predict it's a
lie before any words
ever have to come out,
I guess she lied because she just wants to be slapped around.

Wait what's that sound?
  Oh it's death bells now
   they'll bury me in the
ground. Death is merely
peace that I've finally
found.
   ~SacredInkedBlood ©2018

Depression'
#writtenviaVenjencieArnold - (SacredInkedBlood)

I.
When your voice becomes raspy & dry with words that are empty, without meaning,
Your eyes still see all,
Your ears still hear all,
Oh, close my eyes goodnight
like you would to a soul that
says goodnight,
Stuff my ears so they may not hear the cries.

II.
Oh lay my body down so it may not fall,
I'm paralyzed without the slightest motion,
in the same token I'm filled with boundless emotion,
Movement of fears,
Movement of tears,
Oh lay my body down so it may not fall.

III.
I feel as if when you look at me I've become less than the puppet that I once was,
I feel as if when you look at me
you see a body stuffed with straw,
Oh lay this scarecrow down so it may not fall.

IV.
I no longer hold shape,
I'm bland without color,
I'm unable to stand on my own,
I used to be loved by so many that I've known, Only if my mind could follow my body's steps... no memory recall, Then
I won't know if you choose to let my body fall.

V.
My eyes hollow like those of the hollow
stuffed men,
My heart is beating, I'm still bleeding,
I'm full of emotion like an explosion
in the ocean. I have memory recall,
My ears still hear all, My eyes still see all,
Oh lay a penny on my eyelids to secure them that they may stay closed, Stuff my ears so they may never again be exposed.

VI.
Lay me down with the worn out scarecrows
or where the Lilly's grow, You may no
longer know that I use to be a human body with a brain, heart & soul, Oh just lay this
body low, Maybe God will soon take my soul.
~SacredInkedBlood ©2018

Hannah once again with tears streaming from hazel eyes silently praying, "Oh Lord I need you desperately to show me how to make the best of this situation." Using her delicate hands to cover her face and trying to reason with her own heart. "Josh deserves a wife who can return his love, a wife that can be madly in love with him. I want to be that kind of wife. I want those feelings. I would hate to spend a life time in marriage where there is no love."
Hannah looked down at her hand and remembered his words when he'd given her the wedding rings. "I will wait a life time for you to love me if that's what it takes. I love you. There's no need for you to force feelings for me Hannah."
Regret hit her hard at how easily it seemed when she foolishly gave herself to Jake.
He showed her a different kind of attention that she needed. It dawned upon her right then that Jake didn't love her nor him. She confused it for love. She'd found a stand-in for the attention she craved from her father.
She was more naive but Jake was more crafty. There had been a great hole in her that she thought Jake could feel... an emptiness that only God could fill. Perhaps now she could love Josh as God intended. Now that she set her selfishness aside and forgiven her earthly father and would be right with her Heavenly Father again. She understood love and all of it's honesty now. Maybe it wasn't too late.
A tinge of fear seized a moment making her wonder how she could ever forgive herself. Then questions filled her mind as if to tell this wonderful, loving husband of hers of her betrayal and sin. And if she did would she lose him forever. Wondering if she could keep it hidden from him but if she did how could she feel good about it?
"Oh dear Heavenly Father," she tried once again to pray but only heart breaking sobs came out.
~Author Ven J. Arnold (rough draft).
~(SacredInkedBlood)

That is generous of you
to
request my insight on what you write,
please review my response with an un-ending mind.
So thank you but I must decline...
I read so much but mainly I just write.
I fear if I read your work, I would only find myself discouraged once again.
Understand that writing releases some of my inner pain,
It doesn't matter who's pain, why or from where it came,
I just have to let it out all the same.
It doesn't matter if it's for an injustice done against me or against another... I feel it all the same.                                        
For 1 example;
if the pain is about an injustice done to another then I don't question as to why they don't speak up. I figure I've had peace in my life, more than enough, to make up for what other's go without.
So see, I build up a little confidence, from time to time. Falsely convinced that I've talent in my own writing's & fooled to believe they would actually be of some help.
Then the blinders fall off when I start reading another's work,
revealing to me what, TALENT,
really means.
Then I put my pencils and my paper up along with my diluted ideas that I can help.
The emptiness swallows me when upon realizing, my words will never be read or heard.
They're not good enough. I write hoping to make a difference. So, I ask you, "what's the use in trying raise awareness for any purpose?"  
So yeah, then the depression coils within me turning into a knot,
it gets so tight that if I don't bounce to write, I might as well die.
In spite of trying to hold it in, my veins ink the blood out,
forced pulsating feelings and raw emotion's splatter into words.
I do feel that addressing one injustice at a time helps this world to be little more kind, if only for 1 at a time.
So, I'd rather stay on this same mirago round and not get off this time. I know once it stops, the pain resolves. But not really!
Only long enough to settle before it sour's
into depression. Recounting in my mind, I'm worthless, a fool, thinking my words could make a difference. At least not in this world much less for 1 person treated unkindly.
The mirago round stops and the world's the same. Nothing's changed so no, thank you... I'd rather spin deliriously, believing that I did 1 right thing, even if it's changing just 1 person's state of mind.
So instead of getting off to stand,
I'll stay on my delusional ride, unlike you at
least I'm not pretending to take a *ucking stand for what's right!
This is my answer in poetic form.
May God forgive for the profanity, at least it's not hypocrisy! Right? Oh I forget, the one's that
are in a postion are the ones who forget about serving for a mission,
they lack moral vision of what's right!
I guess then I bid you night.
#VenjencieArnold #SacredInkedBlood
#MyDelusionalRidewrittenbymeon
True!! I hate feeling this way. God forgive me if I'm wrong and help me to stay strong esp if I'm right.

Blessings, Venjencie © 4 months ago, new edit by me on ©09/23/2018 SacredInkedBlood

"Depression" #writtenviaVenjencieArnold
                  I.
When your voice becomes raspy & dry with words that are empty, without meaning, Your eyes still see all,
Your ears still hear all,
Oh, close my eyes goodnight like you would to a soul that says goodnight, Stuff my ears so they may not hear the cries.

                II.
Oh lay my body down so it may not fall, I'm paralyzed without the slightest motion, in the same token I'm filled with boundless emotion, Movement of fears, Movement of tears, Oh lay my body down so it may not fall.

                III.
I feel as if when you look at me I've become less than the puppet that I once was, I feel as if when you look at me you see a body stuffed with straw, Oh lay this scarecrow down so it may not fall.

             IV.
I no longer hold shape, I'm bland without color, I'm unable to stand on my own, I used to be loved by so many that I've known, Only if my mind could follow my body's steps... no memory recall, Then I won't know if you choose to let my body fall.

               V.
My eyes hollow like those of the hollow stuffed men, My heart is beating, I'm still bleeding, I'm full of emotion like an explosion in the ocean. I have memory recall, My ears still hear all, My eyes still see all,  Oh lay a penny on my eyelids to secure them that may stay closed, Stuff my ears so they may never again be exposed.

               VI.
Lay me down with the worn out scarecrows or where the Lilly's grow, You no longer know that I use to be a human body with a brain, heart & soul, Oh just lay this body low, Maybe God will soon take my soul.

~SacredInkedBlood ©Oct042018 Venjencie Clifton Arnold

looking d
                 o
                   w
                      n on this earth,
the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,  
Lamenting FOR EARTH,
                             a earth that's pregnant
                                            with
                               sorrowful burdens,
how must I not feel despair,
feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption,
feeling of sheer dread,
tearfully pleading for it to end,


In shock, for a moment,
muted are my words,
my tongue asleep,
Fingers crave, mind agonized...
martyred for words.

My pen bleeds ink,
innovating a remdesivir,
to cure the world,
if only there were a cure for
ONE
   &
ALL!

To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE,
but until then,
we must not dabble in silence!
~SacredInkedBlood

Fire is so beautiful...
so captivating!
It baffles me,
how something
so beautiful can be so destructive!
I can be fire.
- SacredInkedBlood
    ©2019

looking d
                 o
                   w
                      n on this earth,
the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,  
Lamenting for EARTH,
                             a earth that's
                                 pregnant
               WITH
sorrowful burdens,

how must I not feel despair,
feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption,
feeling of sheer dread,
tearfully pleading for it to end,

In shock, for a moment,
muted are my words,
my tongue asleep,
Fingers crave, mind agonized...
martyred for words.

My pen bleeds ink,
innovating a remdesivir,
to cure the world,
if only there were a cure for
ONE
   &
ALL!

To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE,
but until then,
we must not dabble in silence!
~SacredInkedBlood