Storyteller
I’ve got stories in me
Waiting to be told
I’ve got stories in me
I just need to be bold
I’ve got stories in me
Looking for some place
That can hold them
I’ve got stories in me
Just waiting for the pages
And pages of truth to unfold
From the birth with the chord wrapped around my neck
Well, that is not yet my story to tell but it is part of my story
Or like that how I just knew I was going to learn to ride my bike
And I told my “look mom I prayed that I would learn to ride my bike and now I have to pray that I will not fall”, and sure enough I got on pedaled and did not fall off.
Now that is a story of faith and believing. The faith of a mustard seed I had as a young child
But I’ve got other stories in me
Stories of that faith being shattered by the lack of compassion and humanity when in crisis as a teenager the cops were called to help me but instead threatened to handcuff me.
Mind you I was in need of physical and mental health medical attention, however to them I was just a manic teen they did not understand and the more words that came out of their mouths to me the more threatened and escalated I became. Eventually things settled down and I was driven to the hospital (not by the cops) and stitched up.
But then had to endure the nurses treating me poorly and speaking to me as if I was a“bad child” for “acting out” and causing my family trouble by having a crisis.
These are stories of fear and sadness and pain
But I’m full of so many stories
I’ve got so many stories in me
They fill me to the brim
I’ve got stories of faith and stories of fear
Stories on stories on stories to tell
Stories of battles won and battles still being fought
One year, one month, three weeks, three days and counting
Tick tick tick tick tick… one day at a time, one week, one month, one year… tick tick tick tick tick
My sobriety in and of itself is its own story with sub stories and plot twists
Stories
The pages in my book that are still being written
Stories
I write words with every breath I take
Now for STORY-time
Sorted
Tales
Others
Rather
You not know
Like the cover up of my teacher in grade school who was let’s just say, too touchy feely, but was given a slap on the wrist and a chance at redemption.
Stories where children were not listened to and disregarded
Some stories have themes
Stories
Stories of innocence betrayed
Stories where boundaries were crossed and “No” meant yes
But the beauty in all these stories is the that they do not define me.
I can keep writing…
I can change the punctuation from a period to semicolon so the story keeps going
I can keep telling new stories as they emerge
And retelling old ones to help me heal
And to also bring remembrance of joy
Because oh how I’ve got stories in me
Waiting to be told
Oh how I’ve got stories in me
I just need to keep being bold
I’ve got stories in me
Swirling in my head
I should tell myself a few sweet tales
Before I go to bed
And dream sweet dreams for the future
God has planned for me
The future still being written in my storybook of life
