I Truly enjoy writing. I am grateful that vocal exist as a platform for writers to be creative.
I knew someday I would leave you that one-day I will be gone. But God saw fit to let me stay until you all were grown.
Confessions of a Cult Member
I attacked with a beautiful anger. Justification in every way; confined by this religion. My plans were suspended while being a doormat for these men. They travel; we stay behind. They teach; we learn. Hours of reading scribes on the weekends coupled with long hours of work throughout the week. How did all these children become my responsibility when I am barren? Being made for family and companionship turned me into a servant. Their god is unlike any. He wants to destroy. He hates a multitude of people. “We are above the entire world” they say. “Come follow our ways and you will be the wealthiest. Enlightened to the highest extent. Sons and daughters of the father.”
I can't let go because I don't know what's coming. Things could get better or worse. Curiosity keeps me alive but the pain is hard to bear. I am robbed of my energy and strength. Accepting my decisions feels impossible. Is this my future? There is a sparkling beauty in my eyes from the tears I hold back. How can people be so cruel? Living in a largely populated world, yet the feeling of isolation remains. My heartbeats rapidly with little effort. The shame of being unaccomplished and the fear of being judged; makes me want to run and hide. I question myself. Is my soul pure? Are my sacrifices in vain? As our frozen pond cracks and they fall through drowning; so does my heart freeze like ice and drown in heaviness.
A Journey To the Other Side
I heard a blast that shifted me into an alternate universe. My Grandma Beth was there to greet me. A bright light surrounded us. She reached out and grabbed my hand. I touched her hand and my body felt warm and light. Kind of like the feeling you get when riding on a rollercoaster. Grams passed away three years ago; leaving the family in shambles. Was I dead? How; what happened? “I love you baby but it’s not your time.” My body jerked back and I was laying in a green lit operating room with bright lights in my face. Surrounded by doctors and nurses, I could not move. While laying there, I was left with my thoughts; wondering what happened to me. When I came to, my body felt like a ton of bricks had fell on me. The doctors asked me for my name and age; questions I could not answer. It took one year for me to completely heal. My mother took care of me. I watched her cry everyday, as I struggled to recover. First; my speech came back. Then I struggled through several months of physical therapy. The strength it took to recover, gave me a sense of enlightenment. Rewind to the beginning. Apparently; while catching the subway, I was attacked and robbed by a mob of young kids. One hit me in the head with a bat and the others proceeded to kick me. My consciousness was lost and I was left to die. We had a sketch drawn of my attackers when my memory came back. However; they were never caught.
My Sweet Baby
Grab me by the horns, Let your feet go, Imagine that were flying, Within a rainbow. Stand tall with me, Press your feet firm into the ground,
A Ray of Sunshine
I drifted away for awhile, closed my eyes and imagined myself laying in a field of marigold flowers. Then grabbed one and lightly brushed it against my nose. Futhermore, I released, and watched the wind carry it away. Imagining myself as free as that flower. A feeling of joy, came over me, for a moment. When I came to he was on top of me. He’d abused me so many times I no longer could feel the pain. I could see the blood, and feel the weakness, but no more pain. The first few nights I cried until my eyes were swollen. Nobody could hear my screams.
The Kindly twins, Gracie and Georgia, were the talk of Salem, Kentucky. They were known for their ravishing looks, and perfect bodies. They were slaves to vanity. However, nobody knew where all this wealth came from. They lived in a huge 10 bedroom mansion, and it seemed like their parents were never around. They drove themselves to school. They threw unsupervised parties. Whatever they wanted to do they did. However; these twins had a much darker lifestyle than you can see with the naked eye.
Mean Girls Always Win!
I grew up believing that if you work hard, you will reap the benefits. I was wrong. My name is Emily, and for the last twenty years I’ve worked at Huntley’s Bakery. I’ve been cooking and baking since I was ten years old. My grandma Rose raised me because my mom was a prostitute, and she was addicted to meth. Cooking with my Grams brought me so much joy. Sometimes she’d catch me crying in my room after another short phone call from Mom. She’d say “Mi Mi lets go bake sweets.” I would light up and run to the kitchen. As I got older, I started to see a pattern of submissive behavior towards everyone. My so called best friend decided to end our 10 year friendship because I confronted her about the six hundred dollars she’d failed to pay me back. My boyfriend of 5 years left me, after I expressed to him that the threesomes we were having destroyed my confidence, and I could no longer participate. I was severely depressed, and financially drained.