Coming to terms with the losses is like coming home from a long holiday into space that my mind took me on after my Mother had gone. And it feels like entering into the earths atmosphere like a flaming ball of consciousness as it’s burning all my protective armor clean off. Leaving me raw. Born again I guess. Because I wasn’t here at all. I checked out. I got lost in space. Lost in the spaces. Trying to erase this Indelible marking on a soul sent straight from Gods breath.
What a ride back into the body god gave me. This body has takin a hit over and over again. Like some machine gun from hell rattling of trillions of rounds trying to kill me? Me? Some woman’s unwanted child. I feel dazed and confused, grasping for air. Jesus. Oh Jesus. No this place is not fair. Full of fair weather woman who have no care for the children born unexpected, inconvenient. Unwanted.
It’s like, God took me back to heaven and just the shell of a child who died grew into a woman, had children of her own just went through the motions, took all the potions who finally awoken just drove like hell bent fury three times to barf it all up on her own Mother’s lawn. Saying, “Here you fed this to me long ago, now you taste it and smell it, the medicine was stinking within these precious bones.” As of saying, yes it’s true, “You ain’t no mother of mine, you were the mistake that god sent me to for a woman who was praying for a child to love and hold who boldly took me away from such a disgraceful place, you.”
It’s like God sent me back to teach her a lesson about woman that don’t appreciate the gifts given from heaven. Where ever I went was so amazing. And when I got back all the pain this body felt in my absence came rushing up on me like a gang of bandits that took over the reigns and drove me to show who’s really insane. Like a wild bunch of Indians storming the gates with wild cries of the sadness my people have waled.
My stomach turned sour and wrench from the pains. My hair fell out. My body seemed like collapsing. No more heavenly wrapping to protect it. It’s was fight to fight back. It seemed I’d gone to some heaven for warriors where I’d learned all the lesson of wielding the swords of correction on ungrateful woman who seem to not like the corrections of Gods directions. And give away gift to strangers and don’t see the dangers of their souls when they refuse to surrender and know not the meaning of what it is to be willing and able.
They. Will not be sitting at the Lords table. Indeed. His table is not fit for the ungrateful.