It feels wrong to think that he's better off without her, but those are her words, not mine. I may have thought them, but she said them out loud.

Sad truth is, he will always have belonged to her first, but maybe he is better off without her. I'm the one picking up the pieces, doing the work, cleaning up the messes. I'm the one who considers what's best for him, makes his well-being a priority.

And yet, I encourage that relationship. Is that the right thing to do? If all she's going to do is hurt him repeatedly, shouldn't I try to protect him? But maybe that's not my call to make, because she did have him first.

So I choose to be the one who stays, because she's not coming back. I make the healthiest home I can for my him, because his first mother doesn't have one to give him.

#challenge #adoption #family #addiction #mentalhealth #redemption #reclamation

Up warm, watch form

Straight spine, tight line

French terms, tendon firms

Arabesque pose, body prose

Muscle stretch, memory etch

Rehearse steps, several reps

Down cool, health rule

Body tired, brain wired

So sore, need more

Deep aching, dream waking

Leotard, practice hard

Grasp barre, reach far

Every gain worth the pain

Guess whose toe shoes

Pirhouette speed, performance lead

Stage light, recital night

Music plays, torso sways

Breathe deep, high leap

Happy sigh, who am I

Found my answer, I'm a dancer

@avcm_ #challenge #poetry #ballet #dance

It should have been a simple request, Grandad asking her to help settle her late grandmother's affairs, but page after page fluttered in Victorie's trembling hands as her disbelieving gaze took in the stack of papers that apparently no one else had ever read.

Dear Sweet Boy, even after all these years, the memory of your hand holding mine is daily my waking thought...

Her grandmother had seemed an open book, and Victorie had been closer to her than anyone, but who was this Dear Sweet Boy to whom Myrena had written undelivered letters for longer than Victorie had even been alive?

The star I'd wished on came to see

And wiped away a tear from me

The child I'd wished for I'd received

He was as precious as could be

I'd held him for a little while

And every day adored his smile

It was forever I believed

But now my heart is put on trial

So overwhelmed by former years

And overcome by countless fears

Addiction had my boy deceived

And had reduced us both to tears

The star's light glimmered in the black

She whispered though I felt attack

That I would not always be grieved

And promised my son will come back

#poetry

#addictionrecovery

Keeping it together with a smile on her face

She doesn’t just meet expectations

She exceeds them

She doesn’t just raise the bar

She sets it

It isn’t even hard

But even those closest to her can’t tell

They don’t know

How alone she is

Maybe because it’s those closest to her

Who say she means the most to them

But never consider how she feels

Are too busy to lend a hand

Take her for granted

Make light of the things that matter the most to her

Worst of all those who promised forever

The same ones who hurt her the most

How could she have known that forever

Would be so empty

Every day I look her in the eye

She appears so happy

But I’m the only one who knows

This heartbreaking secret

About the girl in the mirror:

No one loves her

No, I answered, I didn't have my own Nativity set.

"You find one you love, Sissy, and I'll buy it for you," Nannie said, and apologized once more for the pet name because I was grown with my own family. But I loved my grandmother dearly and she could call me whatever she wanted.

Season after season I searched for just the right creche. After so much time had gone by I figured she had forgotten, till one day she asked me again. No, I told her, I still hadn't found the perfect Baby Jesus scene.

"When you find one, let me know," she said. "I want it to be a gift from me."

Nannie passed away before I ever found the ideal Mary and Joseph figurines.

Every holiday season after she died, it felt bittersweet to put up my Christmas tree and remember that she had wanted to give me my own infant Savior in a manger.

Year after year, box by box, my mother and uncle sorted through Nannie's belongings. Being the only granddaughter and having the largest family, I was often given first choice. Did I want Nannie's Tupperware? Her china with the tiny pink roses? Her silverware set?

Did I want Nannie's holiday decorations? The rest of the family couldn't use them. Some had too small of a house. Others didn't celebrate Christmas. They were all mine if I wished.

There were two snow globes, each a different artistic interpretaion of the Holy Family. One tiny pewter Madonna and her betrothed, with her newborn in the hay. A palm-sized porcelain shed containing the Child and the parents. And there was Nannie's ceramic Nativity with the little wooden barn. Every piece was there, including the shepherds and their sheep, the Magi and their camels. The donkey, a cow, and an angel with outstretched arms. Five Nativity scenes in all, and just what I would have chosen.

If I, King Julien (that's my name), only had two days left to live, I would do all the things I have ever dreamed of doing. I would love to become a professional whistler. I'm pretty amazing at it now, but I wanna get, like, even better. Make my living out of it. And you know what else I would do? I would...invade a neighboring country, and impose my own ideology even if they didn't want it!

#favoritekingjulienmoment

Rope burns on my palms and neck

Those behind beg don't let go

Uphill the entire trek

Each step painfully slow

Put in front to hold the line

Because I know the way

But pace is slow and fault is mine

Because I lead the fray

Progress slows when those behind

Start digging in their heel

They fear I may be blind

And they give in to what they feel

Two steps forward, one to rear

Wish someone else could lead

Those behind curse in my ear

Throw stones until I bleed

It should have been a simple quest

With only one design

Deliver this crowd to the crest

Where we can all resign

If those behind would step with me

If we could share the weight

How speedy our ascent would be

The distance not so great

But those behind fight, one and all

The climb to liberty

I'll cut the rope and let them fall

And just deliver me

May 2014

#poetry #deliverance