ClevaWords

This morning, I woke up thinking. I had mad thoughts racing through my mind about "Who is Rhonda?"  Its a question I continue to ask.  Fo r C ol or ed Gi rl s still fresh on my mind as I've examined my confusion of who I've become. I don't really know. I don't know who this person is that I carry around daily. I remember someone else, happier, more pleased with her smile, her style, her flow, her focus.  Today, I miss her. I wear an outer shell of this confusion, my body.  I can teach the world to eat, move, love and those steps are being lost on my own journey, my own poetry. This outer shell tells the story.  It tells the story of being kicked, smacked. It tells the story of being called dumb and told my dreams are foolish. It tells a story of longing for closeness from a father that doesn't know how to be close. It tells the story of repeated death and loss.  It tells the story of mistrust and dishonesty.   I'm wearing this outer shell of hurt an...

On the CWUW blog , we've talked about journaling briefly. I turned on a girlfriend to journaling. She now blogs on myspace and shares with me how its been helpful. I appreciate the outpouring of feelings and emotions from friends who have been willing to share a piece of themselves. Thanks.