How does it feel?
November 2000
On a cold and lonely night, I can feel him on me I yell and I scream no one hears or so it seems.
His hand trickle down my body as the rain thuds on the windowsill he whispers in my ear- How does it feel?
No response is given; so, he carries on
I repeat to myself “in a minute he will be gone”.
A minute has gone by and he is still here
I repeat to myself “life is not fair”.
Then I feel something hard as steel
Murmured this time but, still I hear - How does it feel?
I cannot say anything it feels like I have no voice; silence again, I have no choice.
The Rain man covers my face with what looks like a dark cloud; he enters me no one hears me cry out.
Ms. Young Soft meets Mr. Old Steel I hear the question again, how does it feel?
Blackness is all I see the pain was too much,
The storm knocked out all the power and I wonder if I would need a crutch.
I wake up, and it’s another day the sun had some out, and the rain man has gone away.
Mother stands over me with something for my throat she said “You woke up coughing I thought you’d choke”.
Come on now hurry and get ready for school, why are you moving so slow girl what is wrong with you and I say to myself “if only you knew”.
I got up from the bed afraid to stand I suddenly felt the pain brought by the rain man.
Thought out the morning if someone noticed something different as I got ready for another school day and asked what was wrong? Nothing is what I had to say
I grabbed my books and headed for the door, Mom calls out to me and in the back of my mind I wondered what for?
By this time, I had almost forgotten my whole ordeal then she says, your throat honey…How does it feel?
There is something amazing about being able to put yourself out there. It’s very freeing and liberating. There are so many out there who have no idea what it feels like to say. “These things happened to me, but they are not me”.
This post is for...
This is not bringing up old stuff or trying to gain sympathy or friends. Because I know something everyone won’t admit. I will say it out loud. “Everyone has a sad story.” Some more than others but sad is still sad. This has been a personal journey of sorts. Asking who am I, to… finding the answer - Who am I not? The journey of a thousand miles begin with the first pen stroke of pressed key on a key board. I write, I sing, I dance, I have fun. I express myself in every way and in every day. For all the times, I couldn’t before.
Someone once asked me a long time ago how could I believe in God despite all that’s happened, it was a relative. I will only reveal intimate stuff with my family (and you are that Dinar Chronicel). And my reply was “because I have met the devil.” If there was something that would try to destroy every part of me both seen and unseen. Then there had to be something responsible for the creation of me. They would say, “But aren’t you made at the one who created you, why would anyone create something and let bad stuff happen to them? My answer was, I was but I am not now. How can an illusory creation be mad at the Ultimate creator? But if the Ultimate Creator created something complex enough to understand it. It must also be a creator and so too must be myself as “I” am part of creation (but not “me”) I just need to create different things. And here we are today. “I” am. And bad things happened to “me”. But “We” the people have an opportunity to change and create the world of our dreams. So long as we do not confuse. “Me” and “Mine” with “I”.
So, dream big, create bigger, serve, and heal totally. This is my healing before the healing ships come. What will be yours?
-Daughter of Terra