I stand before you uneasy and afraid.
I stand trembling.
My throat is dry ; my hands sweat.
My voice soon to quiver.
I stand before you with no positive self-image.
No love for me.
I judge what is ‘wrong’ and not what is ‘right’.
It blankets me.
I stand in reflection of a young lady.
Lost and ashamed at nineteen.
A lady trying to fabricate who she theorized she should be.
Molding herself into who she envisioned her parents wanted her to be.
Molding herself into who she envisioned he wanted her to be.
I stand before you covered in a blanket of generations of societal roles.
Frustration, Irritability, Anger, Confusion, Bi-polar, Schizophrenia, Alcoholism, Anxiety & Depression.
Worldliness that I can perceive.
“Here comes the rain again….falling on my head like a memory…falling on my head like a new emotion”
Everyone has a rain story.
I want to fling painful reminders.
They are a prerequisite.
No shame in it.
No masked fairy tales for me.
I am no Cinderella.
I am no Angelina Jolie.
I am a ‘slip of the tongue’ Cape Bretoner.
A plain-featured ‘Jane’.
It is time now to liberate .
I need salvation for my “Angel faces”.
I must have security for my “Baby Boy”.
Immunity for my lover, my mother, my father, my brothers and all who bring me deep joy.
I stand as me.
I am me.
I am Jolly Jumper.
I am Buttercup.
I am Beeee.
I am recovering and discovering me.
I raise my head and reconstruct my foundation.
I feel the warmth of positive regard.
I raise my head as the cloud dispels me.
A smile buzzes around me.
I stand and I am finding “ME”.
Raise a glass to new beginnings.
Raise a glass to spreading wings.
Raise a glass to cocoon shedding and positive things.