Damaged Wings
Unless you have sat with pain, don't think you can walk into my space and try to suck the air out of the room, in the hopes that I will suffocate. It is your own lungs you are damaging.
Unless you have been to the centre of your soul and confronted your demons, spoken to them and fought with them, don't think you can try to awaken mine and not expect a full on war. It is your tortured soul that will suffer a loss.
Unless you have experienced loss, sat with it, kept it company, asked it to leave so you can heal and be whole, don't try to take things from me and think that it is I who will suffer the loss. I've learned to plant where the rain has washed away. And what I plant always blooms.
Unless you have been degraded and broken and torn to shreds, don't try to crush me and think you will not be the one who walks away with broken bones. My bones are not brittle.
I have experienced pain. I have confronted it head on. I have talked to pain and asked pain to leave. I have laid in bed many nights crying, aching, longing. And pain was right there, covering my body like a sheet. Holding onto me. Pain made my house its home. Slept with me. Ate with me. Until I was able to open the door and told it to leave. It had overstayed its welcome. And out the door it went, taking all the bad encounters with it. The times I was told I'm not good enough. The times my Coloured skin was looked down on and it was inferred that because of it, I could not possibly amount to anything. Pain took with it all the times in high school I was called a slut and shamed because I hung out with boys. It took with it the times men did not think I am capable of being loved and kept. It took with it all the times 'friends' left. It also took with it all the pain I had caused others and could not forgive myself for. Pain left, not with the certainty that it would not return. But with the hope that it would never overstay its welcome again. Do not try to cut off the oxygen supply when you breathe the same air I do and expect that only I will suffer. I know of pain and survival, do you?
I have made many mistakes and because of this, my Soul was troubled. I have battled with my Soul and have been bruised badly in the process. Forced to confront transgressions and not hide away in shame, but instead expose myself fully and accept that I am not pure. I am tainted. So that when others point out mistakes, I am able to own it and fix it, and not turn away in shame, hoping the next person will not see the mess. What good is it painting the exterior, if the walls of your house are decaying? Don't come into my space and battle my demons unless you've fought your own and have the scars to prove it. Do you know the depths of your own Soul, with all it has to offer, and have you looked it in the eye?
I know of loss. That of friends who were meant to always be there. Lovers I thought would never leave. Family who proved that even the thickness of blood can be thinned. I have experienced loss in its most raw form like so many other people. Death of loved ones who have left emptiness as their souls departed. A child, snatched from my womb before I had the chance to grow in love with her. Unless you know loss, do not come into my life and think you are able to wash me away. I have planted after the rain and where it was once barren, flowers grow now. Have you seen growth after loss?
I am not what you see. Only part of that.
I have a thick skin to protect this fragile heart.
I may have a blemish free exterior, but the interior is tainted.
I am a bird that flies high, although one of my wings are broken.
I am not what you see. Only part of it.
No amount of degradation can deter me from the path I am on. Or throw me off course. My wing was broken but has healed. I am able to soar again and again. After each painful experience. After each loss. After each setback or humiliation. I fly. With my damaged wing.
Because a bird with the damaged wing is still a bird. Unless you fly with your damaged wings, do not attempt to cut mine off. You will not soar to greater heights.
Damaged wings still fly. This bird can still soar.
I am not done yet.
Take Care.
Miss Stone
Unless you have been to the centre of your soul and confronted your demons, spoken to them and fought with them, don't think you can try to awaken mine and not expect a full on war. It is your tortured soul that will suffer a loss.
Unless you have experienced loss, sat with it, kept it company, asked it to leave so you can heal and be whole, don't try to take things from me and think that it is I who will suffer the loss. I've learned to plant where the rain has washed away. And what I plant always blooms.
Unless you have been degraded and broken and torn to shreds, don't try to crush me and think you will not be the one who walks away with broken bones. My bones are not brittle.
I have experienced pain. I have confronted it head on. I have talked to pain and asked pain to leave. I have laid in bed many nights crying, aching, longing. And pain was right there, covering my body like a sheet. Holding onto me. Pain made my house its home. Slept with me. Ate with me. Until I was able to open the door and told it to leave. It had overstayed its welcome. And out the door it went, taking all the bad encounters with it. The times I was told I'm not good enough. The times my Coloured skin was looked down on and it was inferred that because of it, I could not possibly amount to anything. Pain took with it all the times in high school I was called a slut and shamed because I hung out with boys. It took with it the times men did not think I am capable of being loved and kept. It took with it all the times 'friends' left. It also took with it all the pain I had caused others and could not forgive myself for. Pain left, not with the certainty that it would not return. But with the hope that it would never overstay its welcome again. Do not try to cut off the oxygen supply when you breathe the same air I do and expect that only I will suffer. I know of pain and survival, do you?
I have made many mistakes and because of this, my Soul was troubled. I have battled with my Soul and have been bruised badly in the process. Forced to confront transgressions and not hide away in shame, but instead expose myself fully and accept that I am not pure. I am tainted. So that when others point out mistakes, I am able to own it and fix it, and not turn away in shame, hoping the next person will not see the mess. What good is it painting the exterior, if the walls of your house are decaying? Don't come into my space and battle my demons unless you've fought your own and have the scars to prove it. Do you know the depths of your own Soul, with all it has to offer, and have you looked it in the eye?
I know of loss. That of friends who were meant to always be there. Lovers I thought would never leave. Family who proved that even the thickness of blood can be thinned. I have experienced loss in its most raw form like so many other people. Death of loved ones who have left emptiness as their souls departed. A child, snatched from my womb before I had the chance to grow in love with her. Unless you know loss, do not come into my life and think you are able to wash me away. I have planted after the rain and where it was once barren, flowers grow now. Have you seen growth after loss?
I am not what you see. Only part of that.
I have a thick skin to protect this fragile heart.
I may have a blemish free exterior, but the interior is tainted.
I am a bird that flies high, although one of my wings are broken.
I am not what you see. Only part of it.
No amount of degradation can deter me from the path I am on. Or throw me off course. My wing was broken but has healed. I am able to soar again and again. After each painful experience. After each loss. After each setback or humiliation. I fly. With my damaged wing.
Because a bird with the damaged wing is still a bird. Unless you fly with your damaged wings, do not attempt to cut mine off. You will not soar to greater heights.
Damaged wings still fly. This bird can still soar.
I am not done yet.
Take Care.
Miss Stone
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