I am recalled to this video piece, Throat Lumps, linked below, from my poetry book, Dusted Shelves, that on days which celebrate the essence of love, my heart sits silently with the unloved; the child who has never felt a hug, the ones neglected and the humans dejected by lack of connection or touch. Don’t fake love. It is not something to give or take. It is a state of being. It is who you are in your heart which makes your character. My tribe consists of all humans who understand the suffering of those who are triggered back to pain on days like these.
Vennie tells it the best, our story and pain, seeping it out through a poetic song.
When this poem was first written every time I would try and speak it, it came out musically. It just felt right. So that is how it is
Knowing’s thoughts surging through me found me sitting in my car let in them flow from my vocal cords.
This track is on my audio c.d., “Dusted Shelves; memoir of a cult child”. It’s an afternoon that happened to me, and everything that went through my mind as I was sitting on my balcony.
You can listen to all of the pieces and even download them at: