A, bb appreciation prose 🌹
Recently, I have been showered in words of affirmation
As if I’m a magical being, from a magical space
People have poured out beautiful words
that have completely elevated my appreciation for who I am
I have been told anything between “you have a beautiful mind” to “I wish I had a you”
This has touched me, deeply
Not in a “this is new to me” sort of way more so a “you see me”
-Sort of way
It is easy to feel invisible when you feel that your life’s purpose is to help others
And it seems that when they see you all they tend to see you for is how you can help
This is the life of a band-aid
A natural supporter of anything good and everything they love
We are the band aid’s
The ones who show up
The ones who spend countless of unaccounted hours holding on
We are the band aid’s
the one’s you keep behind your mirror in the bathroom
For the just “in case’s”
But do you ever wonder, that band-aid’s might need band aid’s too?
As much of an honor it is to be one- we all need one
To be there
To kiss and make things all better
To receive love that they don’t have to ask for
To be held without having to instruct on how to hold
We, the band-aid’s
We do not need to be told
We identify pain
We offer support
We do not wait
Can you imagine how much pain, and breaking and ripping and tearing
Shedding and molding and failing that it took for that band aid to even become?
How many times did the adhesive fall off
How many times did the water wash us away
The band aid is a blend of all the things people wish they could be
Society holds band-aids in the highest of esteem
But much like public school teachers
so few ever choose to remain
Because it is a thankless position
You are celebrated for being there, because the need is endless
Things get really tough a lot
and it is the band aid that does the hard work
The ugly work
The heavy lifting
But all cuts
Both in the deep and in the shallow-all heal in time
They all stop bleeding, eventually
And for a few moments, that band aid mends anything that may have tried to break you
It quite literally supports you so fiercely that it helps you to piece yourself back together
But what happens to the band aid?
It gets dirty
It gets soggy
It gets old
And then it gets discarded
Often before the cut even fully heals it gets replaced
I am the band aid
I have always been the band-aid
It costs me nothing to love you
I find it easy to be there for you
I neither gain nor lose anything I have within me by doing so
I am a giver.
In this life, it is important to identify what it is you practice
Because you get really good at anything you practice
As a band aid, I practice giving and gratitude
I practice unconditional love
Whether that love is reciprocal or not, it is what I practice
And I practice for free.
So that I can give for free.
I believe that you get what you give
I want unconditional love
It is all I have ever wanted
I practice vulnerability
It is all I have every wanted
I practice empathy
It is all I have ever wanted
I practice transparency
It is all I have ever wanted
I practice honesty
It is all I have every wanted
And most of all I practice joy
It is everything.
I am committed to healing myself
My nurturing and healing qualities allow me to be there
And I neither gain nor lose anything I have within me by doing so
Anyone that I love and believe in, it is easy to love you
It is easy math for me to be there
I manifested the person I want to be
And I know that I will receive everything I need and deserve, eventually
I woke up to no alarm. The natural vibrations in my body matched by the sunlight peeking through closed curtains welcomed me to the morning. Thankful, to see another day. I slightly predicted the message about marriage to be preached at church and anticipated to feel like I stuck out like a black person in a predominantly white institution as a single. I thought I was going to feel the bitterness of lonely. And resentment and jealousy of memories of past valentines day.
However, I was pleasantly surprised. I was overwhelmed by God’s love. By the presence of his spirit. For I know love because he first loved me. So I relaxed in the pew I sat in and basked in this love. Today is a celebration of love. Of unity. Of marriage. Of oneness. I can only be happy for all those in love celebrating valentines day not as a trend or out of tradition but as a symbol and reflection of the love they have for one another.
I’m optimistic about the love I know that is waiting for me here on this earth. That is preparing itself and shaping and molding and maturing, just for me.
Happy Valentines Day everyone!
I died today
For much too long, I tried so hard to stay
Flirting with limbo
Until I could bend no more
I could not stretch my hands further
Running at super sonic speed one day I crashed into my father
I found him when I went wandering
Through the meadows of nature
And it hit me that this was painted by his brush and
All the bumping and jiving
The sneaking, the lying
The sex and reckless driving
The tree and long islands
Could not compare to the feeling of freedom I got that day when I lift my eyes up
Fresh water streaked down my cheeks
And collected into a puddle reflecting my whole life
Mirroring the emptiness
The bitter loneliness that all along I’d tried to hide back when
I was driven by my passion and desire
To feel loved
But the good news is that I let it all go
And I died today
And the world could go up in flames
And I wouldn’t batt a lash
Because of the many they put on His back
I’m free and forever an heir
And there’s no chance of me turning to salt
Cause there’s no looking back from here
I find myself wandering about
fading in and out of daydreams
snippets of things imagined, things unseen
things that haven’t happened yet, things between you and me
And I wonder for a split second could this be?
Could we both be falling
for the wrong thing…
Yet some time ago I couldn’t feel a thing
numb to the idea of my heart pulsating for anyone
then you stormed into my life
Water-falling me into complete submission
Cascading your presence into my daily consumption
You remind me that the moon knows when to shine and the sun surely rises
I wake to your face and its smiling
Is this a dream?
Cause sometimes it feels like I’m flying.
Even if only for a second
I have to finally accept that
You are permanently ingrained in my grey matter
my eyes flicker at the hope, at the sheer potential of
A reflection of myself fading deep within your iris.
So I just had a moment.
Someone sent me some really kind words about my writing and then I was thinking “woah, I have a blog called ‘Heaven’s Hotlines’…do you know what that means?”
It finally hit me why I named it that and the concept behind such a name. A hotline is a place where you go to receive short-term crisis intervention. Be it needing help through an anxiety attack or just needing to know theres someone there to talk to you. Thats what hotlines are there for. To serve as that one connection in the world who a person reaches and supports them through a tough time.
Now to think of heaven as a hotline amazes me spiritually. It is the one connection I can call to be closer to God and get advice and support about my troubles, worries or fears. Additionally to that its the where I can connect to just to talk about positive things or gratitude as well. It’s a long term service that is always available.
So how does this relate to my naming my blog this when clearly I am not heaven? Well my intentions with this blog was to serve as a virtual representation of the thoughts I have and to serve as a transcript for some of my personal calls to heavens hotlines. Like sometimes I might post like my last few inspirational/creative pieces that may not seem like a call to heavens hotline but they are. In my own way I like to write and express whats on my heart whether it be about giving and getting love in this world or unmerited favor and looking for God in the wrong spaces, I feel its all connected. We all have different and unique ways that we connect to God.
Prayer is my hotline to heaven or to God. At any moment I can dial-up a prayer in the middle of a street or in class and just open up parts of me I can’t open up to anybody else. Mostly because He loves me unconditionally. He knows me inside and out and because I trust Him with my life. It’s comforting to know that as a christian I have this open prayer line where I can communicate with God at all times and prayer definitely changes things and is very powerful. So I mean I just want to encourage myself and others like me to pray more, keep that hotline open and fluid. It will provide an ease and peace of mind and the security you need to feel in your life.
You dance behind closed doors
with strangers and different men
under the twisted disillusionment of lust
hoping that one of them will see your soul and tell you who you are
you didnt believe him when he told you
you were chosen
and wonderfully made
you scoffed at the idea that you could be special
which is why your wrists and that blade used to struggle
“what am I doing here?”, defeated you stay in the mirror
gazing at a broken woman
with many scars
you cant fathom how shes still alive
how has she survived
you know Jesus died for you but you cant fathom why
“who am I?” so underserving you cant even see that you did nothing to earn this
he gave his life for you he wasn’t murdered
you have to believe you are someone worth fighting for
worth dying for
someone with a purpose and a voice
chin up, sweet girl
surely you are distinguished
come out from that darkness
and the bondage you live in
you have to believe that you are here for His reason
and that every part of you He knows
so vibe with him
sing a song, bust a rhyme to him
pray your heart out so loud to him
because he’s heard your cry to men
you were looking for the love of God in them
But now it’s time to embrace the love and Grace he gives
We’re like the rose
Elegant with beautiful imperfections
Though highly respected
sometimes are neglected
When those petals shrivel into a dark crisp
And it’s life has seemingly been ended
But you see the rose and how it grows
Only lord knows how long it will have it’s life
It buds as a small flower and blooms into a majestic work of art
Praised and worshipped by men
Used to sweep them off their feet and woo women
but when they dry and shrivel up are trashed into a bin
What if we cherished a dark midnight rose
With dark stiff petals that are perceived to be dead?
What if we accepted that a rose is still a rose and a beautiful symbol for how we in our own lives too will grow?
Stunning and bold, full of color and life but one day our ripest of petals will soon fall off.
The rose is but a symbol of our hearts.
Not a measure of how we live and die in this life.
We are the roses.
For surely it is roses that grow from the depths of our hearts and reflect the love from which our souls shine.
And when those roses are in their prime be sure to share them and spread them all over.
There’s a flicker of light in the eyes of the reciever. They will be delighted and smitten by this grand gesture. A rose can make them a believer.
Be the roses.
Be that symbol of love and appreciation that you hope to fill the hearts of others.
Be the roses.
And one day you too shall recieve your own.
Be the roses.
Cause roses don’t die.
This person is in love with love.They believe in fairy tales and love.They’re not to be confused as stalkers or creepy because that’s not what a hopeless romantic is. All hopeless romantics are idealists,the sentimental dreamers,the imaginative and the fanciful when you get to know them.They often live with rose colored glasses on.They make lovelook like an art form with all the romantic things they do for their special someone.
I always thought I was a hopeless romantic. Hopeless in the sense that the love I imagined I should have will never exist. But I was wrong. I’m a hopeful romantic. I’m in love with love and like Kendrick said “I love so much, I love when love hurts.” This is because I have so much love inside of me. I used to say I was just a “sucker for love” but no. love is a sucker for me. I’m by nature just a very loving person and my heart is very big I just want to spread love all around. Romantic or otherwise. So I have to be hopeful that there’s someone out there who can receive that. I am pretty much this definition but I think it hints at this idea of lack of reality. People think you’re a hopeless romantic because you are not realistic about the kind of love you deserve or can obtain hence the “rose-colored glasses.” But let’s be real. I know everything isn’t rosy. But you can have whatever you want in this world if you can think it. If you have faith and believe it. So I believe I can have it. I’m very realistic about what the reality of my love life is.
SO yeah lol this was a pretty random post but I just felt like saying I think people should stop being negative and calling themselves hopeless romantics simply because they have bigger ideas for the kind of love they want. Why would you settle for a complacent dull commitment when you could have passionate and complex depth with another person? It’s that depth and that passion that I long for and the truth is it’s hard to find but like Adele said “He’d be hard to chase but good to catch” so I keep hope alive.
I was talking with a friend and she had some really kind things to say about me as we were having an hour-long heart to heart. She’s always encouraging me to use my vulnerability as a strength and to express myself. She said:
“You’re special. Like the energizer bunny who never gets tired but even when you are tired you’re still lively…You have this stamina this endurance that people need to know about. You are literally unbreakable… what’s keeping you alive?”
And I thought this question was quite profound. She went on to mention about my going through a lot of what I’d been through and still remaining hopeful and hungry to be alive. And now that I think about it it’s only God. It’s only my faith that keeps me going. And my unwavering belief that he has a plan for my life and it is good. To be able to trust in something full-heartedly and to believe that everything happens for His reason is comforting to me and is what keeps me going when things start to get tough.
So I wrote this poem called “I’m Alive” as sort of a response to her question and the way that I view my life.