The day they say I was born is coming around. Who knows anymore

My life has been rearranged. Scribbled over. Painted over. Papered over. Jerked this way and that. And folks just expect Adoptees and orphans to just jump to the new tunes of whoever shows up to pretend they were the one who we came from.

And if no one says anything. No one will learn.

Well this nobody is speaking and writing her side of the fence called love? That keeps out the shame until I find home and see the shame caves inside my own Mamas head?

It’s a hide and go seek that’s rigged. Mama doesn’t know I will seek after she hides. But god does. And god let her run. Run run run. And have her fun. Like a protocol son. But the bucks stopped here. And now God talking in her ear. Through the child she gave away. Who wanted to stay.

And like Mary she hung me out to dry to save her pride. I hope she been happy with that pride. Cuz she gonna say goodbye to pride. As she now is outed. Faced with her truth seen through her own child’s eye sent back for her review. Wonder if it’s so sweet now that she’s seen it was sour all along. She just lied and said it was sweet.

I will be 56 on the 8th of this month? Maybe. Who knows. I don’t have my original records yet. Denied my right by the laws that protect her ass still. She cowers in a house filled with junk. Trying to fill the hole God left inside her that was for me. Filled with a museum of memories that deny my existence. One picture did I find in that place. A few of my children down low and away from view. To avoid questions. Who’s this?

She’s got such promise. But pride is strong in her veins. Like cocaine. It’s made her stiff. And it’s made her unruly. As she follows her flesh instead of her spirit. The spirit of God asks many things of us. To be given a child is a question from God,” what will you do with this one”? Kill it? Abandon it? Abandon yourself to do so? What will you do with me asks God? For I live within all human flesh. What will you choose to see? Monster, or princess?

I’ve seen many monsters. Mama Jean looked like a monster to me growing up? With no one to sort my feelings out of me? They just swirled around and around inside me. Reeling havoc. Ignorance is not bliss to the children left in it. No. I had to fight to find my way. Just to come home to my own Mama trying to control my script? Telling me how to be? After telling me to leave?

This is the life of an orphan who’s come home. This is our prize for taking the fall for yet another Mary to sacred to stand tall. Well #metoo

She left me outside her care. And so I got a strangers care which is not the same as a Mamas care. She made me tough. And for that I do thank her as I now sort all these feelings out before you. Look at this mess my Mama gave me. Not even a letter to say goodbye did she give me? Just poof like my own daughter. Such a lovely pattern? No. It’s not

And I’m standing here working to stop it. To rage against the pattern of separation. Binding up the wounds they inflict on themselves by refusing me. Have cause my own daughter to comply with a would be murderer if I was conceived today. She surely would have succeeded in killing me. Like so many as they wave their free will tickets like star belly Sneeches and don’t want a star or do.

It seem blood is thicker. Yet doesn’t make anyone hold tighter. Except to yesterday’s news cuz they suck at a new way of living. It’s so sickening to look at. But I can’t turn away. That’s the tree I was cut from. But that’s not the me I became.

What do I know? A lot. Changes. Names. Dates. Do they reflect the truth? I have lived as a lie. And now my Mama wants to live her lie forever I guess? Without her sweet daughter. She thinks it’s me talking. No it’s ever persons words that they told me. Spit in her face like a sick baby does when their stomach gone sour. Hold everyone advice. I have it to the one it was for. At God’s leading. She can deny nothing. The word backs me up clearly.

I am the new Moses. And the anointed ones were always the children of God. We all are children of god. Who started this lie anyway? Oh. The church. Good day.

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psychecafe

I am an Adapted, artist, Mother, a soul, a human, singer, writer, activist, minister and deprogrammer and reprogrammer of minds. And I am here because we need to change how you see it, a lot of things that is. For us Adoptees who have lived in the dark. We were cut off from our families. And that is sad people.

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