Poetry

Labeled: Disabled:
You don’t know what it’s like to be discarded like a crumpled up piece of paper, because you have a disability. 
When no one will admit this to you, 
But it lurks in the shadows, an uncovered truth. 
You don’t know what it’s like to be punished for something that happened to you, 
or for something you can’t control. 
You don’t know what it’s like to be labeled, 
disabled; incapable, and pushed aside. 
You don’t have a clue, 
so don’t lie and act like you do.

Life As a Survivor:

Hot tears streak down my face hard, as my heart, as fragile as glass, once again

breaks into shards.

Bad news again, this is too high, that’s too low, that’s growing too fast, this is

growing too slow.

I wish I could find a way to make myself not care what other people think; about me

and what I’m going through, I wish I could blotch out every bad moment or news

with ink.

Then things could go back to normal, back to how it was before, but for me, things

will never be normal again, not ever, not anymore.

I wish I could run away, I’ve been fighting this battle for over ten years, twenty-four hours

a day.

I try my best to be a normal young adult, to be perfect, but no matter how hard I try,

again and again, I break down into tears, shattering, and feeling that none of this is

worth it.

I try to remind myself that God is on my side. That he will never let me down, and try

not to cry.

Because although life is exhausting, and there will always be struggles, I know that

God will get me through each season of life, because he has a reason and a plan for

me beyond all of this strife.

Rediscovering Normal:

I wish anything in my life were normal,

But it’s not, and it hasn’t been for years.

I wish I could do everything people my age do,

without getting so tired that I burst into tears.

I wish I could play sports again,

I wish I could be like them.

I wish I could stay out late, and drive a car,

I wish the old me didn’t seem so far gone.

I wish I could paint my nails, and put my hair in a ponytail,

I wish I didn’t have to work so hard at trying not to fail.

But then again, there is no normal; each of us is made different,

and on the other hand, now that I think…

I don’t want to be normal,

because everyone would be the same, so un-unique,

and so formal.

Actually, I’d rather not be normal.

Good at Lying:

I’m really good at lying…

People believe me when I say, “I’m fine,”

while I sit there crying.

I’m really good at lying….

I can tell people everything’s going great,

while my insides are falling to pieces, like shattered glass, dying.

I’m really good at lying…

I can say I’ve got it together while I’m barely holding on,

and just before I fall off that cliff I tell people I’m just flying.

I’m really good at lying…

I can say a procedure went well,

because I’m still alive, but barely breathing.

I’m really good at lying…

Balloon Hopes:

Tears flood my eyes, my heart flutters with panic,

my mouth feels full, as if it’s overcome by static.

I wish I didn’t feel like such a disappointment, as it’s one of my biggest fears,

and as my mom asks if I’m okay, I reply yeah, a lie,

and hold back the brimming tears.

Stress is something that comes easily to me,

and I can’t control it or tell myself it’s okay

because my brain is telling me it’s not.

And as I feel my face burning red with frustration, the tears start to flow

like a monsoon,

as my heart of hopes is popped like a balloon.

There is Such a Feeling As Nothing:

There’s such a feeling as nothing.

You might say it can’t be possible to feel nothing, but it is and I have.

The feeling of nothing is when your friends ditch you for better plans, Feeling nothing is when you find out something awful has happened but you can’t do anything because its out of your hands.

Feeling nothing is when you find out your brother’s back on drugs again.

and feeling nothing is wondering if you could have been there more to talk to him.

Feeling nothing is drowning in the depths of sorrow,

Feeling nothing is when you wonder what would happen if you weren’t around tomorrow.

Feeling nothing is dropping the phone after you find out your friend passed away,

Feeling nothing is remembering you can’t text her about a funny thing that happened today.

Feeling nothing is the hardest thing to feel.

It’s when you feel things that hurt so bad they numb you, and your numbness refuses to heal.

So for those who say you nothing is not a feeling,

Did you ever wonder what it’s called when you have a hurt, anger, and a sadness that goes without healing?

It’s just nothing.

Summer Reminiscence:

The sweet scent of summer drifts into my nose,

Bringing memories flooding back.

Memories of playing wiffle ball, and jumping fences high and wide,

Of playing “Tong Tong for me”, and searching for the best place to hide,

Of Capture the Flag, or Cops and Robbers,

Of waiting impatiently at the lake with fishing poles and their bobbers.

My mind fills with memories of splashing around in blue waves of swimming pools,

After coming home from bible school.

Summer makes me remember knocking on neighbors’ doors,

the first thing after we woke up in the morning, and playing till the fireflies came out, and lit up the night sky.

Summer reminds me of the beautiful things we miss,

of endless days, and nights full of bliss.

Whenever:

Whenever life gets tough, whenever you lose your faith, remember that things will get better.

Whenever you feel lost, remember that things can’t be stormy forever.

Whenever others doubt you, don’t let it ruin your day, instead just turn around and say, “Watch me”, and prove them wrong.

Whenever you’re hurting, remember God is with you and is never deserting.

Whenever you feel alone, remember you are not on your own, never too far away from home.

Whenever you make a mistake, don’t think it’s what makes you break; it’s what makes you who you are, it is not a scar.

Whenever you wonder why you are not feeling accomplished,

Remember it’s because you are still God’s work in progress.

My God He Is:

My God he is everything to me. My God he is the well that quenches my thirst

And gives me a drink. My God, he is the mind, which helps me think.

My God, he is the soul that gives me life, My God; he is the tears that give me strength through strife. My God, he is the creator of all living life.

My God, he is the heart that gives me love. My God, he is the sun that shines down it’s light on me, giving me peace like a dove. My God, he is the one who guides me from above. My God, he is the one that sat and told little children they would be the ones to spread his love.

My God, he is the river on which my boat flows, My God, he is the light peering out from the stormy clouds that glow. My God, he is the one in which there is no knowledge in which he does not know.

My God is the one who created that majestical kingdom in the sky, where our loved ones as angels fly. This is the kingdom, in which no one has to say goodbye.

My God, he is the promising and hopeful rainbow, my God, he is the highway of life, which leads me on the road I must go. My God, he is the words, “Jesus loves me this I know”. My God, he is the sturdiness to keep standing, when the strongest gust of wind blows.

Today:

Today might be another day of pain:

smile through it.

Today there might be something you are asked to do

that you do not want to do:

do it.

Today there is not enough love:

share yours.

Today is a window of opportunity

that will unlock new chances, new doors.

Today is a new start;

give it your all,

go into it

with all of your heart.

Today is your chance to shine;

maybe a purpose for yourself

is something you will find.

You never know,

anything can happen today.

Accepting the Unknowns of Tomorrow:

Today I am happy, carefree,

and as wild as the leaves blowing off of a tree.

Today I’m exciting, and exuberant, and free,

free of troubles and worries.

I’m free to be me.

Today is a good day,

a day when I’m not getting bad news or am too tired.

Today I am inspired.

Tomorrow I may be sad and hurting, or even miserable, and sappy,

but tomorrow does not matter because today, I am happy!

God of the Hills & Valleys:

I don’t understand why you won’t just let me rise to the tops of the shining mountains, why you keep me in the dark alleys of this valley.

I don’t understand why you just won’t answer my prayer, or get me out of this despair. I don’t understand, it’s not fair.

But then I look again, and I see the barren and desolate mountaintops, I realize why you keep me down in the valleys of despair, for it is plush and everything grows there; perhaps, even you are growing me here.

Goodbye Fear:

I don’t need you, fear. You can go home; you are not welcome here.

I don’t need you, I don’t like you, I don’t want you. Please leave.

Because…

I am good enough.

I am pretty enough.

I am smart enough.

I am brave enough.

I am strong enough.

I am talented enough.

I am enough.

So, fear, fear, fear, fear, don’t come around here, trying to bring me down,

telling me that no one wants me, that I shouldn’t be here,

when it’s you that needs to leave, fear.

I am brave, courageous, bold, confident, and fearless.

So long, goodbye, fear, you will never be welcome here.

Reflections:

If you look closely into the reflection of the big picture window, you can still see, children laughing, dancing around and singing, performing for their parents and grandparents, putting on a show.

If you look closely into that window, you’ll catch a glimpse of children excitedly watching thunderstorms in awe, and in the winter, watching jovially as the snowflakes fall.

If you look closely into that front window, you can still see a family with four small children haphazardly decorating their Christmas tree, in early December, and you can still hear the shrieks of joy as wrapping paper is ripped open on Christmas mornings.

If you glimpse into the reflection of that picture window, you can still smell the freshly picked flowers from the garden outside, sitting on the window sill, next to the little girl that picked them, reading softly to the cat curled up at her side.

If you look closely into that same window, you can see kids playing hide and seek as a moving truck pulls into the driveway, and if you look closely out of the window, you might still hear the yelling of “Tong-Tong-For-Me!”, or the clink of a baseball hitting the bat, and see the kids at play.

If you listen carefully by that picture window, you might still hear a dog barking excitedly as a tan Ford Taurus carrying beloved grandparents pulls down the street, and into view; later, you might still find a safely discreetly hidden ten-dollar bill for their grandchildren tucked into a picture frame or two.

If you look closely into that picture window, you might still see kids scrambling and hunting for Easter eggs in the Spring, and excitedly pulling candy and fingerboards out of their baskets on Easter morning.

If you listen closely enough, you might still hear the sobs of four teenagers and their parents somberly whispering “I love you, Copper,” as they kiss their sweet, beloved family dog goodbye. And yet, if you look closely, you’ll see the oversized white paws of a small black and tan puppy bounding through that same living room, as time drifts by.

If you look closely into that picture window, and listen carefully still, you can still hear and see the memories that once filled it, but there are some memories, that have yet to come still.

This house with the big picture window is where we lived and where we dreamed. It’s where we laughed and cried. This house with the picture window is the one we’ve filled, with memories to take with us, and hold close as we go on our way, to help remind us of yesterday.