as young as sampaguita in the farm
but stubborn as a mule
a pain in her mama's chest

her day cries if she doesn’t get
what she wants and days get longer  
if she refused to do the chores

stubborn child, stubborn child, her mama said
it echoes back her ears
words she doesn’t want to hear

it isn’t her mama’s equation to solve
but she repudiates and spews dormant philippics
like an erupting volcanoes

stubborn child, stubborn child, her mama said
it echoes back her ears
words she doesn’t want to hear

but her papa was different different as he was
he held her stubbornness like a baby
in his arms so fragile

he put her in a hammock and heard her cry
like a deep broken voice no one hears
and saw her dark shadows no one sees

he, whose heart flows in her veins
lifted her up and soften her heart
as she lay them down his chest

she whispers upon the moon for a change
many nights before she retires to bed
but like ravens their feathers always black

she can’t understand why her mama only sees
the ugly face of stubbornness
but then for her she finds beauty from it
an ornament her breast wears

her will power!
that’s what she is

there was a child whose father
brews rice at dawn
before the eyes of her mother
she frowns and stands like a pawn

her neighbors grumble saying
her lips a peg for pots
but they've seen nothing
what's inside her hearts

at the age of ten she thinks
like a hundred times her age
she burns her brows at nights
while her siblings sleep in their caves

she stands in the dark trails
her childhood can't see or hear
but her heart alone sees
how much she wanted to be free                                                                                                            

there's a spring of tears
and a lake of fire
she locks her door
and hides her face inside

cyclothymia runs her blood, they said
but their blind to see
blind to see her in a bottomless pit
almost defied

and her mother only sees
a face with a frown
a frown not the fullness
of her heart with a crown

but her father looks into her eyes
his smiles washed away the frown on her brows
leaving no flecks but a face that radiates
she flows with the rivers and seas

he sees her depths and lifts his pride
his a shelter she trusts her back and her spine
and her face glows in the dark a luminous green
then she finds her way and strength to walk on her path

the child with a frown no longer exists
her mother stands still in wonders
the neighbors and their mouths are shot
as a well grown garden arise
full of flowers bees and butterflies

I struggle with myself,
I struggle with my brain
it ain't that I'm a crazy
it ain't I'm gone insane

trauma changes people
deep within the mind
all that I am asking
is you be the loving kind,

I gotta thinkin problem
some things invade my thought,
I don't know when it happened
or if it was something I was taught,

so tell me I'm annoying
but don't say that I'm bad
tell me I am wonderful
in loving me your glad,

I will love you truly love
cuz I am true of heart
but maybe we are doomed you know
doomed we were the start,

but still,
too not seek the beauty in the experience,
seems to me a waste of both our precious precious time
when loving could be so amazing
exciting an sublime

I only ask you try
be present be with me
open up your mind and heart
only then we will see
if to love so unencumbered
will set our love so free,

only then we will know-

if you an I
were ever -
REALLY
meant to be.

Ma Cherie © 2017

"Think about it, we have each other and all she has is her rage."*

Because one can't simply be happy in this world without there being people to try to tear them down.

Take me home Lord or please leave me be
It's hard enough alone why can't you see?
You gave me time to live and time to be free
So let me suffer my own way so I can be me

Say something Lord so we know you're there
I don't need miracles just a sign that you care
My friends are crying from sorrow and despair
Help us as we wait on a horn blowing in the air

Take me or leave me
Bless me or reject me
Which one will it be
Tell me now Lord
Is it flesh or a soul you see?

Believing was hard even for a disciple
Their nets were full and loaves were plentiful
But they were afraid and could not be faithful
Forgive me for my weak heart is always sinful

I won't make promises anymore I can't keep
The last one I broke made someone weep
I pray now to the one who washed John's feet
And drink the wine and bread he served to eat

Take me or leave me
Doubt me or believe me
Which one will it be
Tell me now Lord
When will decide about me?

Imagine opening your eyes in the morning
Yawning at the start of a new day

Birds chirp and the sun shines into your bedroom
As you begin to gain consciousness, you may think
"I'm excited to go to school today" or
"Work will be interesting"

But in my mind the bully steps onto the stage
Get moving, start doing, it endlessly berates
Sleeping in isn't an option today

What I should do is based on my thought out inadequacies
Too fat, too lazy, the gym is where you'll go
But I'm trying to exercise for wellness
Where's the distinction? I don't know.

You didn't accomplish much yesterday
Not enough was done
You should have been studying more
In my mind these thoughts run

You are not good enough
Endlessly on repeat
Overthinking everything
Sensitive to everything I eat.

Intense, strong emotions
cloud my mind
The bully in my head
Is never very kind.

"Just don't listen to it"
"You know that's not true"
But it's so natural and automatic
For years it's told me what to do

This same drive propelled me
To excel in school
To be athletic and involved
It was a useful tool

Before Gr. 12 it wasn't so harsh all the time
When it became more malicious
I am not so sure
I endlessly compare myself to everyone I encounter

So balance is what I'm trying to find
Its inclinations I'm trying to endure

---------------------------------------------------------­---------------

Each day a war
Each day a battle
Some are better than others
I'm striving for equilibrium
And to make peace with the bully

Demonizing the bully is not effective
Nor is dismissing its thoughts
Because bullies have their own muddled pasts
I believe my bully is a little girl that is fraught

She's trying to keep me in line
Aware of the passing of time
Anxious about what's to come
Believes in control, well at least some

I have always worried about the future
Unsure of what lies there
Control is an attempt to ensure success
In a world that is uncertain and unfair

I busy myself in an attempt to distract
But I get so busy I throw myself off track
Forget to focus on what I have learned
To recognize I needn't be so concerned

It seems as I cycle through periods of stress
When my mood and my mind are more of a mess
When my coping methods may not be the best
But rest assured I'm trying, I'm trying on this quest

The surface you see may not really be me
I try to put on a brave face
Decisions, the future, which were terrifying to me
I'm now living through, to discover who I'll be

Before I go to bed
With the bully still in my head
What quiets her is utter exhaustion
But what sustains me is an ember of hope
That what I've endured can help others
All I want to do is help others
And make a difference in someone else's life
To assist them in alleviating parts of their strife

It was warm when I arrived in that big city- a suitcase and my purse are the only legacies I had left to my name.
I could start over here.
I could be someone new here.

My driver was a nice man from Delaware- he told me that the city was old and that I was brave for traveling so far alone.
He was a kind man.
He told me the weather was going to change soon.
He knew nothing about me... I don't think I knew anything about me.

We got to this broke down apartment over in West Philadelphia.
I remember thinking... this can't be the right address.
But it was and that was just the beginning to my endless self struggle.
I thought I could start over here.

The weather changed fast- overnight it was freezing and I was struggling to find warm enough clothes.
I remember thinking... how the **** can anyone live here?
I remember thinking ... how the **** am I going to make it here?

I learned a lot about myself that month I spent in the city.
I learned how to take a subway, how to take a bus, who to talk too and who to avoid.
I learned I can survive being alone.
I also learned.... you can't run from yourself.

You can't change as quickly as the weather.

These are the cyclical watches:
Waking dawns of healing,
Walking light of realization,
Rejoicing contentment,
Sitting afternoons of temptation,
Wandering twilight rebellion,
Wallowing nights of sin,
Shrieking midnight repentance,
Mournful watches before dawn....
These are the days of shriving.