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Questions Run Rampant Through This Mind Of Mine…

Were my words well received? This I must know. To share my words with the world and to say how much they mean to me I must try. If I don’t I can never say that I have. So if I do, I can never say that I didn’t. I can’t deny something that came from my heart. Once out of my brain and onto the keyboard on my site for the whole world to read. Then they are at once out of my head and heart. Here for record making. Here for me to reflect upon. Wondering exactly how much shit have I been going through? Just read me. That’s what my words scream. I’m here telling you so why do you have to ask? All so I can dig deeper to explain what I’m really trying to say. My mind is running rampant. Riddled with questions throughout. Having just come out of therapy I feel vaguely refreshed. With an expanding mind in the world of poetry I find myself falling flat on my face. Trying to teach my mind not to run so undesired through certain topics. I find myself quite content to stay in the mind set I’m already in. I’m telling myself I’m thinking good and positive things. Only for me to come home and fumble the fucking ball so close to a touchdown.

Dammit! Why Tina? Why am I so hard headed? I even have my numerology chart against me. Calling me out for everyone to read. All about my personal struggles and how I’m always going to be the one to get caught and made example of. Even knowing that, it doesn’t make me stop the crazy drive inside of me to not do the shit I know I’m fixing to do. Exactly what I’m not supposed to do, is what I’m now doing. Ugh!!! Not everyone can see me as the person I portray to be. They only know the ugly side. The side I am always trying to hide. The side everyone who knows me, knows is there. I unwillingly scream for help. I’m crying deep inside my soul. For a hand to reach out of the black abyss that is my life and lend a helping hand. No! Not my life. My secret!!! My unkempt emotions about things that cross my path. Cutting me off from all reality and making me believe that what I know will never come to light. Only for me to tell on myself and (what I wanted to remain a secret) the things I have done that have made me feel so shitty. As a mother. A lover. A parent and a spouse.

STOP!! That’s what I have to do. Put down the drugs and pick up an ink pen or pencil. Hell, even my laptop. Lightly tap the keys and form the words that give me strength. Words like, Help, Hope, Guidance, 2nd chances. All those words inspire in me a fire that stokes. Flames lick the ceiling and kiss the outer edges of each window pane and doorway. Ignite in me a desire to not only become better but to do better, and to live each day only one day at a time. Stop planning what I’m going to do from day to day. Pause and think. Reflect and learn. Detach me from myself and become one with the words now flowing into the darkness where the bad and vile part of my brain has been. To light them up and cast them out. Those dark desires turn into positive thinking that will then become positive actions. Today I am finished with the bad. I put it down to make this a good ending on a beautiful day. Sober I now am. Once again ready to re-evaluate myself and give said punishment for my transgressions. I think at times I don’t deserve the 2nd chance I was given because it didn’t come very easily or quickly. It was over a period of years. Only after me acknowledging the wrong I have done and coming to terms with it. Speaking about it and letting my loved ones know how thankful I truly am to be blessed by such, as only they know how, to love me the way they do. What a bright ending on a gorgeous day. Sobriety at it’s finest. Perfection undone. Love is tranquil. It plays it’s role wonderfully. Questions run rampant through this mind of mine…

By tallgirl07

I have always loved expressing myself through words. I have been a bookworm since I started reading I think. So expressing myself through writing has forever been super easy for me. Now if I could just teach everyone who didn't know how, how to read, then they'd be able to read all the fascinating literature out there. I'd go crazy if I couldn't curl up to a good book on a rainy day if I wanted to. I work with the public. So I was outside a couple days ago typing away on my 2nd hand chrome book, and a nice gentleman started conversation about how long it took to charge. I said not long for an older model. He said he knew, about the older model I was working with. I proceeded to tell him I was trying my hand at writing a book. He turned out to be an avid bookworm himself. He gave me nothing but encouragement to finish the book. I like to tell myself I can do anything. But we all know how some people should just stick to their profession, well I'm gonna keep trying. I won't stop until I know without a shadow of doubt I can't succeed. Then maybe I'll put my pencil down, or in my case now, close my chrome book for good. Something tells me I won't have to just yet though.

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