Notice

Do you notice her there?

Downtrodden and hiding her eyes

They are lined, heavy with black

If only to cover her tear stained lids

She hides because she’s afraid

Afraid that if you see her

If you really notice her

That you’ll run away

Her tears would be too much

Her heartache would push you against the wall

She stares through her black hair, which is hanging over her eyes

She sees you sitting there, across the pond

On a bench, with a bright smile on your face

She notices you, she hears you laughing

As you talk on the phone

If you were to look up, you’d see her watching

Watching your happiness

If you were to look up, would you notice her sadness?

As Always,

Bethany

31Days – I dare you

I dare you.

Yes Bethany, you.

To look in the mirror right now and say

“I love you”

Bethany I dare you to see beyond what people say and do

I dare you to breath in grace every morning

I dare you to hope for bigger and brighter things

I know it’s dark now

But I believe the light will shine soon.

Don’t dare to stop dreaming

Don’t dare to stop believing that there are people who love you.

As Always,

Bethany

I have joined up with some friends for the Five Minute Friday link up.

Today’s topic is dare.  So I dare you to sit down, set your timer for five minutes and write, no editing, no spell check just your heart.

Waiting

Weary

I lay my head down

I wait for you

As I was told to do

 

You never come though

This god I thought I knew

I’m alone in the dark

I am still waiting

 

My quiet breath and tear stained cheeks

I cannot hide my wounds

The ones you said would heal

I am still waiting

 

Grief weighs my heart down

The one that should be filled with joy

That the book says would be made new

I am still waiting

 

Let go and let God

Were their parting words

Joy and healing will come

I am still waiting

 

Wait no longer

Sitting back does harm

I move forward with heaviness

I am waiting no longer

 

As Always,

Bethany

 

 

Them – a guest post from Jamie Bonilla

Jamie and a met through a writing group I was once involved in. She and her husband were driving through Colorado last summer and needed a place to crash. Boom!

Jamie is one of my kindred spirits. In fact we began our dreadlocks on the same night in October. The full moon.

This woman can also blast out some poetry.

city screams
pour through smoke rafters
as i look to a sky
hazed and unjust
the ache
is in ‘them’
and not ‘us’
and how can ‘i’ know
what ‘they’ must feel?
i can only assume
it is what we all feel, sometimes

alone
unsafe
stuck

maybe mine is metaphysical
(and excruciating)
maybe theirs is physical
(and excruciating)

what conversation would it take
to hold each other’s pain
close
to witness
the stressed fabric
about to pull apart
knowing we can’t fix it?
what would it take to be
human
together?

My beautiful friend Jamie

It was only a sip

*TRIGGER WARNING*

I had lost my words right?  Everyone heard me say it.  Blogging felt dull and when I did blog it took me 1-2 weeks to get it done and posted.

Then I was raped and spent a week in the hospital and ALL the words, probably other people’s words too started flowing.  I am thankful they let me keep my journal because I wrote so much.

I had a hard time writing about what actually happened and I didn’t want to.

However the poetry, oh the poetry.  I wanted to dance around that my words came back.  I would have except that might have earned me an extra week 🙂

Here is another one I wrote.

One sip

Black as night

Clothes tossed to the side

My soul screams

You took something

My memory

You used my body

I couldn’t fight back

You left me naked on the bathroom floor

Ashamed

Dignity now in the toilet

I remain numb

Indifferent to your choice

Except you did not take my voice

As Always,

Bethany

 

As Always,

Bethany

Holy Table

This poem came out of my experience with leaving the evangelical church.  I attended a women’s bible study and over the course of three years these women loved me like I hadn’t ever been loved.  What I soon realized is that they loved the fake Bethany and the Bethany that they wanted me to be.  When my faith shifted and I started sharing new ideas, in excitement because I wasn’t relying on anyone else for the information, they promptly shut me out.

 

There is no longer room for me

At your perfectly lavish table

Told once I always welcome

It is the banquet table of God yes?

Now my name slips past their lips as if there were a death

Lips that used to speak love

Hearts that said I was one of their own

Now I have walked away from the God they see

As I have found Him on my own

My seat has been taken by a rule follower

And I am no longer welcome in their banquet hall.

As Always,

Bethany

I Know you, Grieving Mother

I know you

The grieving

Wounded mother

You are not alone

Those aches

They are mine too

I have cried those weary tears of frustration

Of never ending, steadfast love

Locked bathroom doors

Hot angry prayer

Of why?

Not again – Not tonight

As fists rage

A battle not worth fighting

I lie here with you

Solidarity

Tired

You CAN fight

Get back up

I have

But for tonight

Dear mother

Rest

 

As Always,

Bethany