An addict's mother crying, as the day begins. Endless prayers are rising, her hope speaks to win. But battles are not owned by mothers on the side. And gloves may be on, but never touch the fight.
Their Addiction~My Journey- An Addict’s Mom
Poetry-Addictions Mom
When momma mothers addiction.
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Their Addiction -My Journey, “Will You Make It?”
They may not make it out alive. I already found my daughter unresponsive in a suicide attempt, so I am numb to the scenario, yet in fear. As a parent, you never want to accept your child might die, but I acknowledge this painful truth.
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Their Addiction – My Journey, “Painful Truth”
Today, I admit my loss, and it's not you, it is me. My identify is gone, and my will to live is slowly dwindling to nothing. I moved from the joy of living to hate of breathing.
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Poetry- Hiding in Sight
Interpreting sadness.
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Poetry- Stepping into Done
Stepping into Done
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Bipolar Life- The Journal #74- “Suicide Cries”
Where something beautiful should be, lies a vacant space only filled with the waste of pain. Years of abuse scavenged every last bit of light—a broken mind from a broken heart.
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Poetry -Empty
..Beating her in and out.
And there flying free,
Her dreams escape her now.
As morning sun arises,
And newness hollers, "Free!"
Lies the skeleton of survival,
No longer needed or in need.
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Poetry- Remembered Forgotten
In dreams they stay.
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Five Minute Friday- Prompt Word “Experience”
No, I am not a hero. My experiences are cringe-worthy. Navigating God's purpose in the aftermath isn't always easy. Who am I, and why me?
