I was listening to the radio today, and one women was commenting on how apalled she was that anyone could call themselves a born again Christian and be Catholic. Now, I’m not sure what others might say about their beliefs, but I’m a Catholic firstly because I was born into it. Secondly because I’m Nigerian and we are intense in our faith. Thirdly, I’m Catholic because God put me in this position. If God tells me to move to a different denomination, I’ll do that. I follow God, not the judgement of man. Furthermore, if you haven’t ever been Catholic, you might not understand all of their doctrines. Granted, I also have my skepticisms, but again, I follow the word and teachings of God. I won’t act on what I don’t believe. However, saying that you’re apalled at Catholics and condemning them doesn’t make you a better person. It makes you about as bad as terrorists who say that if you don’t follow their beliefs, you deserve to die.
I don’t encourage judgemental behavior. I am pretty mellow about others’ beliefs and lifestyles because it’s basically not my place to judge. It’s God’s. Any negative feelings I have for another will affect how people view me and how I view myself. So I won’t encourage something that is against my faith, but, because I don’t know the mind of God, I can’t condemn it either. Since no one can read the mind if God, no one can say what is really wrong or right.
So I wrote a song called Beautiful Grace. I put a password on ot to avoid plagirism. Only those who’ve read my recent poems could guess the answer to my question that is the password: What did I say that I hide my pain and fear in? (plural; two words; no spacing)
Scanning the crowd
No familiar faces.
A world of color shifts to greys.
The lights flicker
Even as they shine brightly.
Even with so many,
The room feels empty.
The loneliness is stifling.
So I drift off
Into my mind
Into the fantasies.
No one watches me
So no one knows.
Knows how brilliant I was
How brilliant I am
How brilliant I could be.
If only they noticed me.
[Song: Because of You by Kelly Clarkson]
When I started trying to write about myself, the song Because of You started playing through my head—loudly. I’ll admit, I’ve seen some things and experienced others that make me hesitant to give myself away—heart, thoughts, or feelings. So I decided to use the song for my next “Different Kind of Poetry” poem.
[Because of Me]
I lose my way I’ve always been lost
And it’s not too long before you point it out You find me, mockery in your eyes
I cannot cry My tears dried up long ago
Because I know that’s weakness in your eyes I am not strong, yet I still stand tall and proud
I’m forced to fake I wish reality was a lie
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life I hide my laughter behind fake laughter
My heart can’t possibly break You shattered my heart beyond breaking
When it wasn’t even whole to start with It was never yours to break.
This just in: 12:00 AM rambling is not a myth. New fact about me: when I stay up for twenty-four hours straight, I start talking out loud. Want to interrogate me? Just keep me up all day and night watching a Korean/Japaneae drama.
“Don’t dance darling” my mother said
As I shimmied down the store aisle. “Write when you’re ready” they said
As they ripped the pen and paper from my hands.
All the energy I put in up until this point.
All the sweat, tears, and blood was for them.
Yet they take me for granted.
I love them all, so I protect them the only way I know how-
I push them away. Far. Far away from.
From all my hurt and tears.
All my broken cupboards masking my fears and pain.
I give them a smile-a laugh-a fake groan
Pretending that it’s okay,that I’m okay. But I’m not.
I haven’t been for a while now.
But they, you, don’t notice.
My silence speaks a thousand words,
But my screams speak louder.
I scream behind the cupboards. Are you watching, listening?
-I’m a bookworm. Want to plan my presents for the next fifty years? Buy me two books (preferably romance and fantasy/paranormal/sci-fi) (and maybe a stuffed bear) and a bag of Hershey’s Cookies n’ Cream chocolate bites. That’s it.
-No one has realized this yet, but I’m a party girl. I like parties. No, not for the drinks. Or the food. Or the boys. I go to parties and dances to dance. Pureandsimple.
-I’m really mellow. This could be associated with my bad memory, but I doubt it. I just have this sense of calm where I tell myself to just not think.
-I am who I am. How you interperet me is what you get. I won’t explain myself to anyone. Hence the multiple versions of myself.
-I’m not who you think I am. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am and what I’m like without consulting me or hearing my opinion. You think I’m selfish? You’re darn tootin’ I am, but if you ask for some of my beloved, coveted food, I’ll give you some. You think I’m lonely? Lonely people hate when they’re alone. I find it peaceful I just have a fear of being completely alone and death. They’re strong.
-I’m a contradictory mess. Some would say an oximoron. Others would say a paradox. I say it’s a lack of sleep and stunted emotional growth.
-I’m dark yet cheerful. It shows in my writing. I’m most neutral in stories because it’s not about me- it’s about the characters and my future readers.
-I hate awkward moments and fights. Some could say I’m passive. Haha, believe whatever you want, darling. Just wait until you try to touch my food….
WARNING: These books are not listed in a specific order, are based wholely and solely on my opinion of good books, and have been proven to cause extreme fangirl reactions (i.e. tears, screaming, obssessing over characters, staying awake late at night, talking to oneself, etc.)
Clawing at my throat
Dangling by the chains that I swallowed to hide.
Fear that everything bad thing I imagined will be true.
Fear that every amazing outcome is possible.
Fear of my dreams-my thoughts-my hopes.
So I take that fear
I hide it in a cupboard.
The cupboard is every fake laugh
Every fake smile
Every groan during the during the day
And every illusion during my insomnia nights.
My fears control me. And that is the only thing that I’ll ever hate.