Imperfect Faces

I love an imperfect face.
Birth-marked,
age spotted,
or freckled.
The characters that tell the story of you.

Lip creases--
resembling the joys you've experienced
and the loves you have known.

Facial hair full of wisdom,
and the forehead lines of a thinker.
Eyes deeply set
or perhaps unequally spaced.
What the world rejects,
sets you apart from the rest.
The curves of your cheeks,
the radiance of your smile.

Strong facial features--
you were born to mirror
the appearance of kings and queens.

Every flaw was designed;
your nose is unique.
Thick lips,
to me always seem to produce the sweetest kisses.

Dark circles--
are badges of persistence,
so wear them with pride.
Because perfection is a lie,
and insecurities are never really hidden.
Leave off the mask
for your beauty is seen without the additives,
and make up is only a temporary fix.

Your face is alluring;
it's what makes you-- you.
Pure and natural,
from the day you were made.

I believe beauty is truly found in the eye of the beholder.
And I see you;
and I love what I see--
every feature of your perfectly imperfect face.

The Space In Between

What I'd really like to know--
is the distance between the closing of a door
and the opening of a window?

Just perhaps spatially speaking--
you and I are even closer
to what we've both been seeking.

.............true love...............

The Haiku Blues

Once upon a time
he was the inspiration
behind my poems.
...............................

Hoped one day he'd see
way beyond his LCD
that I do exist.
...............................

Supported his gift;
seated in the audience
as more than a fan.
................................

Him, more than a muse
and eons from just a crush
he had me smitten.
.................................

His hair is long locked
though I figured out his heart
required the key.
.................................

Learned a thing or two
about what I value most--
communication.
..................................

Maybe this is it,
the last poem I will write
for his attention.

I am Me

I am who I am;
a sapiosexual--
aroused by the mind.

Life Changer

Writing is about
becoming so transparent
that your words change lives.

..or at least for me it is.

My sick parent

You really never know what it's like to live and care for a sick parent until you have to do it. My mother was diagnosed with lupus in the early 90's. I remember being young and very uneducated about this condition so I immediately assumed that that was in other words a death sentence for her. When my mother was 18 years old she gave birth to me and 3 months afterwards, she lost her mother to this disease. I grew up with this intense fear of turning 18 because like I said I was young and I had convinced myself that I would lose my mother at that time as well. Through God's grace, it's been 15 years since and my Mom is still here!

For the last 2-3 years though she has been suffering from severe lupus complications which changed her lifestyle completely. She has undergone almost 10 surgeries and at this point she's practically being admitted into the hospital on a month to month basis. I moved in with her once she first starting coming out of remission in order to provide her support during this time. This has truly been one of the most challenging experiences of my life as I'm sure she can say the very same. It breaks my heart because the woman who gave birth to me; the strongest woman I know, now is in need of help from me and some very patient nurses. (quick shout out to nurses)

At times, I see having a sick parent as both a gift and a curse. Through her suffering I get to watch the hand of God at work. She has been near death on a few occasions but I've been made a witness to see Him heal her and bring her through. I'm honored to have a front row seat to these miraculous works but like I said, it also feels like a curse. I sometimes feel guilty for wanting to restore my independence from this situation. I want to make a life for myself, meet and marry my husband, make babies and maybe even more somewhere tropical but I feel like I can't do any of this because I'm obligated to care for the one person who has always cared for me.

Sunday night, I watched her be taken away in the ambulance again and let me tell you something-- this never becomes comfortable. I often appear stoic but on the inside I'm petrified that this could be the last time she'll be home. I try very intensely to keep calm because I feel like her and my brother need to me to be strong when times get tough for us. I really don't know what I would do if I lost her. I have faith that God will get me through and I know I'll have no other choice but to trust and stand on that. In my mind, I can not fathom how I would still function as a sane human being. I watch my peers that I know lost their mothers and in some way or another, these people manage but they're never the same as they once were. I truly believe you lose a part of yourself.

For me personally, every time she is in the hospital for an extended stay I begin having bouts of anxiety. The stress affects my body even when I'm not aware of it. On a few occasions I've even visited the ER because the symptoms had gotten so bad.

Living with and caring for a sick parent is hard. I don't wish this on anyone because it hardens you and weakens you at the same time. Watching her being taken away on the gurney doesn't get comfortable but it also shouldn't feel routine. My mind is becoming conditioned to not feel although I'm full of emotion. When she left  the other night, the first thing I should have done was to drop down on my knees and pray for her health but I didn't do that. I came into my room and logged onto my social media sites. I understand fully that my body did that in attempt to cope with what was going on. It wanted to escape reality for a moment but my spirit coached me to come before God although I was afraid to do so because I would have to face my fear.

I would have to address that I have no control over whatever the outcome may be once she got to the hospital. I have no say on how this will play out. It's in the not knowing! ..and that's the problem. Speaking to God would mean that I'll be putting everything in His hands, including myself. I would have to let Him break through the tough exterior so that the true pain can be exposed. I don't know about you but for me dealing with my truth doesn't always feel good. And God being God, I know that He will require my complete honesty. So I prayed this prayer:

God,
I don't know why You chose me to have a sick mother. I don't know what Your plan is and the unknown when it comes to this, rocks my being. I have very few people in my life and when the person that means the most to me is down, I feel free and empty. I'm conflicted on the inside. I'm burdened but it's becoming so familiar to live this way that that too scares me. I need You. We need You. Mom is not well and shoot, neither am I. I know her health issues are not mines and I know that I can only provide her with so much care before I cross into areas in which I don't belong. Help me to do my part during this time. Even if that means the only thing I can give to her is prayer. I ask that everyone on the staff at the hospital will be in tune with the care of their patients. I ask that my mother is not just another patient they have to 'deal with' before they end their shift. I ask that the doctors and the nurses will all work on one accord, that they may line up with the voice of wisdom that you have graced them with. I pray that my mother doesn't feel alone during this time. I pray that she doesn't feel hopeless but that You will fill her with the strength and wear with all to push another day. Remind her that she still has a purpose so that she may not become so weary in her body that depression sets in. May You heal her from the inside out heavenly Father. God I ask that You lift the burdens off of me. Help me to accept my reality and to stop running from You. I know that sickness is apart of life, so help me to see it as so. Help me to see the good and not the bad all the while continuing to be real to myself. Help me to allow myself to feel everything that I feel. I pray to no longer mask my emotions in this area because putting on a front doesn't benefit me or those around me. Make me soft when I need to be God so that I can wail out to you. Let me not confuse having faith with having it all together. I ask that You forgive me for even trying before now. Amen.

So if you or anyone you know is out there who too is or has experienced living with a sick parent then I would love to hear from you. A small conversation can cast the greatest amount of support.

One day

One day I'll be old
and none of this foolish stuff
will even matter.

The Single's Conundrum

So here's the thing: God could very well be instructing that man or woman that you've been praying for to come into your life to actually come into your life. But see in all of His magnificence, He also gifted us with free will. So they (just as you and I) have the right to obey or to disobey those whispers. If your prayers aren't being answered during your season of singleness it doesn't mean that God isn't hearing you; it could mean that your counterpart is the one not doing the listening. And if you're honest with yourself, is that really someone you want to end up with?