I hate saying I am sorry Mama.
But not for the reason you may entertain or subscribe too. I grew up hearing Mama Jean say to me, when I said I was sorry, ” sorry isn’t good enough”.
And I don’t know that she realized how much her words cut me to the bone. I don’t know if she realized that phrase would cut my heart so deeply that another phrase would grow.
Because I felt so sorry. A lot.
Sorry piece of shit
Sorry for all the pain a little child seemed to bring.
And sorry, it wasn’t you that could love and hold me close.
Because I’m not sorry for a thing, a mistake, a wretch like me.
Because Jesus died for me.
He wasn’t sorry for all he said.
He was sorry he was misunderstood.
For his message of sorry cut my so deep as he hung on the cross and said, “father forgive them for they know not what they do”.
And I always thought of you Mama.
Wishing that I could be a diamond on those hands to admire and value. And not just a piece of shit you popped out and when home to bleach a bathroom to forget.
Because the day you went away was the day I hung on the tree.
There is nothing sorry. About me.
For I live with the mindset of no regrets.
I’ve loved people who couldn’t even love themselves. Spent myself on precious diamonds that god made from my womb.
I’ve watched them grow up. And toss me away. Turn away from the silly non sorry Mama that I am to the core. A woman who dared to be taken advantage of to show the advantage of such a silly act to love and maybe be judged for being foolish.
And those precious diamonds shine. You even said it yourself about little chels.
But could not even see it in me.
Oh people. I need for you to see. What I see.
Because god gave me eyes of love to see through your own hate. Hate is just love in reverse. When we get it all left and need to get it right.
So? I held onto you Mama. And kept digging deep. To find all of your wonderful points and to sharpen them with god’s red ink.
And I went to the places that seemed to be so dark and unappreciated.
I started to smoke. You smoked while your body made me. The world says that is horrible. But not me. I seem to find comfort with smoking I think of thee.
Is it so bad, to love you so deeply?
Is it bad to go where you went to truly understand the woman god chose to make me from?
To dig deeply within. To pull out all the stops. To work and work to polish some silver challis that I came from. To come home to present all your bad sides and show you my lessons won.
Standing tall like my daddy. And maybe showing his grin. To show you no sin. But a child who came from within.
Who is the walking. Talking. Breathing representation of all that God gave me of you and him.
Not sorry. For not being sorry.
Your touch is what I’ve craved.
Why? Am I lacking? Hell no I am free. Freely giving back into the challis that god made me. From. Filling that cup up to over flowing. Driving all the sour drinks away.
Standing in the street of the world screaming!!
Look at me. Linda Marie!!
For the day I came to be. Was the day love grew from a bad thing.
Yeah. I came and surprised you like my little Chelsie Lynn did. But I got that left right Mama.
Please don’t call it a sin.
Oh Mama I held them. So closely. And I loved it all away.
I felt the knife cut me. When I myself was upset cus she came so quickly. Why? Cuz of diapers and her Mama just wanted a rest before giving again. But it was just a thought. And I surrendered because obedience brought her to my world. And I knew I was getting it right.
Cuz she rocked my world. And I knew it was me growing so deep within me but different. For she would not be labeled a mistake or sorry.
I’m not sorry you came to be from me baby girl.
So precious. So fun loving and silly. Humping the walls and dancing all silly for me. The one who can see the value that came from me.
People listen and read these twisted words as I show you that a Mama must love herself first to even love what come from within her.
Not sorry for loving that man that made all three with me.
Sperm is just fluid. But if a man can’t even love himself how could he love me? I’m not sorry they left. At least that’s honest. As they showed me their own value. Not mine.
For my children. Pieces of flesh cut from my cloth walk the planet loving like mad men and woman because I took my time to get lost in those jelly smeared grins not formed from a sin.
Forged from passions heat. Challis’s so beautiful. Polished and tempered by this Mamas loving hands. Bang bang bang.
Filled up to over flowing they flew to the four winds to spread the love this Mama filled them again and again.
To face hates laughing grin. Screaming I am no sin.
People will call you crazy for loving like me.
But that the lesson this mad woman who dared to allow god to make thee from me.
For love is all there is. And I’m not sorry a bit.
For daring to love my Mama who threw me to her four winds. For I’ve love everyone that’s come into my life.
I’ve dared to show them their own hate to drive hate away and reveal loves bittersweet after tastes.
Sorry cut me. But only to get the poison out.
Sorry cut at my heart. And I used to to heal.
Sorry is just a word we say when we need apologize for a mistake.
But in god’s eyes a mistake is just practice. Get up. Go again is what god says. I’ve given you grace. And a man on a cross to look to to taste what the world didn’t want to see.
A man. A coach. Daring to say what needed saying. The nails they drove into that man were the nails they drove into themselves for not seeing they needed to change.
Stoning woman who just needed love. Be honest. God’s highest command. Love those who seem unworthy for your loving yourself. But when they walk away. Don’t think it’s yourself.
They are just showing how empty they are and while in their challis’s. Dripping all the love you gave to another. Still searching. Searching.
To find their own Mother within.
Cuz I found mine. And polished her til she shined. Then prayed to my father. Who took me how to shine the light on my dear Mama.
Shining so bright all the demons would now scream and run for the hills educated. No longer ignorant of love’s sting.
The flesh is weak. But the spirit makes strong.
This child born of something called wrong.
And I’m not one bit sorry for loving my Mama so much. I bore my own to send into her life and show her her own wrong. Bring her back to her knees. And show her the words red how he bleeds.
My soul came from a woman told it was wrong. To come home at long last and show her all that’s right.
Left right. Left right. As I dance my silly jig. I’ve changed Mamas mind and this stories a rigged for one reason.
Love is the only reason. Love is the only game. And love is all we hold at the end of each day.
Dig deep within. Find Mama again and again. For she’s there wanting to be seen and remembered.
She is the precious silver god forged to become me. Her gift. Unraveled. Who traveled. Spent her money and his to carry her groceries in and fight for love always wins.
I took my time and spent it well. Each time I drove to uncast the spells. I dared to love Mama despite all that the world said. And show Mama me standing out in the crowd.
Leading the pack of wolves back to her den. Bowing. Crouched low. Honor. Glory.
This is what I bring from a far. To spend on my Mama.
And I’ll go down in my history defying it all.
I’m not sorry at all.
i learned as a slave
for love. ill rise.
anything less is just a lie.
I am the help.
this black woman spoke to this white slave for love.