Let GO
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MatureOngoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Dec 26, 2016
Sitting on the dock near the river enjoying the cool windy breeze blowing through my hair and the cool breeze blowing so heavily on my face. The cool breeze is just as cold as I want to be to others who have betrayed me, but the way my heart is set up; I can't be cold hearted. Sitting here thinking about so many things my mind is on overload. Too many people take my kindness for a weakness it seems. I've let go and let God. I've forgiven those who have betrayed me; I see now that I can forgive and move on and I do not have to socialize with people who take my kindness for granted. I do not want to carry a grudge because its like an uncureable illness, deadly to the soul. Carrying around anger and grudges can wear you down mentally and physically and can leave your soul empty. Which is why I've learned to let go and give it all to God. Sitting on the dock by the river is always calming and relaxing to my soul; its a true cleanser for the soul. My mind, soul, and heart is free of anger and grudges. I'm truly in a better place, I feel like my soul is smiling and is free again. I let Go and let God........
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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