#10 sista struggling

January 15, 2010 · Filed under Uncategorized

dear sista struggling,

the mind is a very powerful force. with it, what seems to be impossible soon is connected to a multitude of options. problems solved by balancing out equations. mind over matter makes you levitate over a mountain of problems.

but what happens if that mind is filled to the brim with disillusions? or versions of truths unvalidated due to the lack of facts. what happens when a powerful mind is saturated with swirling tornados of emotion.

or worst yet, pain.

i once believed in your power. i have heard your stories of triumph and heartbreak. i have listened to how you took the crumbled pieces of yourself and rebuild it to have you stand taller and more solid.

and because you shared that with me, i held your truth gingerly, softly, but tightly. and not once did i think to ever throw it back to you.

but some pains exist long before i have ever come into your life. that there are issues bigger, and cut deeper, causing your stance, your very being to build a wall so thick, that nobody can break it down. and sometimes, that pain, etched deep into your walls, become engravings of any person who you think would hurt you.

what has leeched onto you have found you standing in a garden of tombstones. of people you once trusted but for some askewed point of view, became an enemy and to stop the pain from being amplified, you pulled the plug.

sista… nobody wanted to hurt you. nobody had the intent of wanting you to put up your guard. nobody pushed you in a corner causing you to bounce back. nobody was there to fight and the only enemy you saw was your own shadow, which you boxed.

i never wanted your man. never then, never now, and never in the future. i don’t want your life, when i am so in love with mine . your journey doesn’t intrigue me which is why you don’t see me traveling parallel to you.

this is not a story of me, or the outside forces trying to break you down, or take what is yours. what is yours is this pain. it is not mine. it is fears you thought you eradicated in your battles past but instead they were hiding in the hidden corners of you, coming out and striking you, walls of smoke that fog mirrors. it is not me you see. it is not them you see…. it is you.

i never think of you yet my name always show up on your tongue. i don’t hide in the smoke waiting to strike. i don’t even have the time or energy to even entertain the thought. i focus on those i love, my allies, my confidantes.

i used to consider you a sista in the struggle. now i consider you a sista struggling. the most heartbreaking part of the story is that you exiled the very village who would have been there for you.

good luck on your journey. one day you will let go of the weight and become streamlined with the wind. i did, and it is only me and my flock, soaring. and “i’ve never seen a wild thing sorry for itself.”

alfie