• The overwhelming feeling I felt growing up exiled from my own tribe was,”They didn’t really expect much out of me, just some baby machines child”. My Mama wonders what my deals is? Ba! Oh Linda. Listen.
  • I know what’s in me. I know who made me. And I came home to see if your home fires still burned for me, like mine does for you. Daddy was a player Mama. And I am too. I play to win that heart that’s part mine. Mine skips a beat or two. Just like yours. My walk. Laugh. And stubborn ways. Sexy beyond beauty. Exuding and fruity. Sassy. Classy. Above it all, and yet dives as deep as it goes.
  • No college fund. No financial training. Or encouragement to strive harder than to be a servant. Armed with what I was given I boldly stepped into the Adult stage with nothing more than commands to rise from. I learned how to relate to the world beyond my raising. Lessons my family denied me due to lack of seeing what was possible inside of me.
  • I am more than just Adopted.
  • I’ve lived as a displaced and misplaced human being who’s got dreams. I thought maybe another look in Mamas mirror would help me see all that I’ve dreamed to be. Beyond children. Marriage. Blue collar work. I’ve got some fight in me. Can Mama see? What did she expect of me? What did she expect of herself?
  • Where am I within that woman that made me? I know I am there cuz that’s where I came from? Did I remove all traces? Take the drapes down and remove all the laces? Was I nothing more than a fart in her breeze, quickly bleached away with ease? Who am I to my Mama? I know who she is to me.
  • I sit in a garage. And I see what’s up with me. Hermit mode. Sorting things out that no one even say was a mess? Left me for dead and that’s the sin. Kin. When?
  • Surely if I can love a stranger you can love me? If I can adjust then why can’t we? What will be written down in the book of books about our deeds?
  • What worth is in thee? Can you see the same within me? I look around me. Pull my boot straps up everyday and keep looking. For myself in all of thee. I ask myself? Why have I rejected myself so? Can they not see we all are hurt and I am tending the wounds invisible unseen. Recognized by me. Wounded minds. Old ideas conceived. Still born. Rotting.
  • Family. I am a healer. That’s all I’ve known to do on my way to you. Thrown into last place like some hot potato, I’m running like hell to get ahead of you for our celebration dinner.
  • I know what God expects of me. And now your getting a taste of what I’ve had to eat on my way home to hearth and home, Mama. Much of it’s made me sick and rotted my guts. Barfing it up. Coming clean.
  • Why. Do you think I don’t give a shit about being called crazy? My life’s crazy. Living like this is insanity. Your still my family for god sakes. Yes. Mama raised the stakes. The day she sent me to my destiny. To learn the lesson and being them back for you to see. What folks think about it. You do need the truth. And folks are fake as hell out her beyond family.
  • You take this report to the bank. Bank on me. I have always know exactly who I am. Including all of you. You may wish to believe I am deserving of being cut off? But that you not me. I know we are connected. So I’m at the front of the class. And every student counts. You just didn’t want to have to work. Like me.
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