Honey Graham Bernal
I was born to write. Not sure about what else. I do know I love to write and I tend to enter some form of quantum field when I write as hours turn into minutes and the day flies by.
Maya Angelou, wrote seven autobiographies as a civil rights advocate alongside Martin Luther King, and was awarded the highest civilian honor by Barack Obama. For myself, Maya Angelou is a relatable heroine, whose courage and words raised me up when I was pushed down.
A Angel's Grief
I woke up in a sweat, bruised and battered from the inside out. Only to awaken into my real-life nightmare. Another creditor, asking for five thousand dollars. Money was the last of my worries. A picture on the nightstand tore my heart ablaze. I touched the side where the man in the photograph used to sleep, snoring soundly.
Awaken Inner Psychic Abilities
I'm no angel. Sometimes I'm a demon. Mainly, I'm a channel to assist others. I don't remember what I say or write as I give professional readings. I write as fast as spirit comes through me. It’s called automatic writing, it’s a trance-like state allowing the Other Side to utilize me as a vessel or conduit.
I was bitten as a teeanger, destined to remain in high school forever, roaming the academic halls of first days, forbidden crushes, and cheerleading for the rest of time, collecting graduation caps.
Desensitized I, aghast at her thunderbolt words of rage inflaming scenes of my past freezing in a cage of fresh, familiar inferno
The first time I heard the word, COVID, my chest tightened and I lost my steadiness. My legs loosened from under me and I fell on the floor. I was close by when I overheard my husband listening to the news in Spanish. Noticias. Despite the language barrier, the word swallowed me whole and I wasn't the same again. I told my husband that same day my fears. "For some reason, I just know that...that thing whatever it is, is never going away." My studder from grade school came back as horror hit me from head to toe.
Demons & Angels
Even as a semi-professional medium, I’d never seen or believed in Demons. Sure, I believed in Angels and spirits. They appeared everywhere as flashes of light supporting someone who was in tears. Hugging a stranger who was hiding the pain inside of them.
Some call the worst deadly sin. Some call it a miracle. Some just plain call it what it is, attempted murder. May sound like a telenovela. Only this is real life. Mine.