Welcome...
to the crazy planet of my mind
I have been numbing…
In the beginning of this current state of physical distancing I was worried but the idea of spending a few months at home wasn’t so bothersome… But when a few months turned to several and then spanned the holidays things got harder for me. Two weeks before Thanksgiving my oldest habit of stuffing my emotions with food kicked in. I ate every emotion that I had experienced from March 2020… not healthy I know but this is what I have known for a good portion of my life. My body is paying the price for my inability to manage my emotions. After Christmas the food numbing diminished. This was replaced with my 2nd oldest habit. I began numbing with TV. I have watched every show and movie that never interested me. In the past weeks this inability to process my feelings has caught up with me. Anger, sadness, unhappiness, this is what I am now confronted with. When I consider the length of time its been since my last hug with another human being, my eyes start to water. The very thing that reduces stress and anxiety, the simple act of kindness and love eludes me. We are all having very different, yet uncomfortable circumstances with this pandemic. But I encourage you, if you have someone to hug, hug them now, hug them hard, hug them like your life depends on it… because it does.
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I have been busy working on a little project.... Poetry and FlowersExploring Imagesby Dionne Poindexter
Now available on Blurb https://www.blurb.com/b/10546832-poetry-and-flowers I’m tired.
Tired of society’s reaction to the color of my skin and texture of my hair. Tired of the labels, classifications, stereotypes… Tired of being corrected. Tired of having to qualify my thoughts and actions. I’m tired of being stressed. I’m tired of the negative media. I’m exhausted with Facebook and social media. I’m tired of the anxiety I feel every time I need to leave my house. Tired of being undermined and undervalued. Tired of inadequate leadership. Fatigued by the lack of respect. #facebook #mentalhealth #whitepeople #blackpeople #america Someone recently said “the one that got me was Philando Castile”
He said his name but failed to call forth all the other women and men of varying chocolate skin… as though those black bodies were irrelevant. The one that got me… compassion failed. Our society so hyper aware and institutionally programmed blackness equates guilt. Why is the question forever a hatred for the color of skin? It’s the dark that scares me
Empty blackness bound by nothingness When the silence of his voice is all but lost Is she so pathetic?
Is she that unworthy? Is she worth caring for? Is she deserving of love? Finding space to create the word has been very difficult as of late… Swimming in so much unknown Uncertainty crowding thoughts No food to heal the trapped emotions, no drink to console her tears As she lifts passed the absence This dirty girl craves so much Touched and disappointed Cradling her hope The lies that never fear, is she weak or trapped under the blanket of smoke? Weighted
Gravel in which I swallow whole… I have been struggling to find the expression and gifted to still exhaust breath It’s he I love, in a world stained with death and ash Segregated by insanity |
AuthorThe Only Child Archives
April 2024
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