Book 12: Deja Flew     "Deja Flew" Part 8

Leap of faith

Take a leap of great faith.
From a familiar place.
But it’s someplace where you don’t belong.

Things rush at your face.
As you strive to erase.
Those things that you know that are wrong.

Like running a race.
As you slowly displace.
The things that have hurt you so long.

As you hurtle through space.
Letting go with great haste.
Be proud to sing out your song.

And seek to embrace.
All the style and grace.
That’s eluded your life all along.

The song

I wish that everyone could just get along.
Like words and music in a song.
A song so free it brings a tear.
And to the whole it brings good cheer.

Too many see the outward shells.
And fail to see the inward hells.
The hells of our inner child.
For most of us are driven wild.

We often live within ourselves.
All our hopes and dreams upon a shelf.
This is why we wish this song.
This show of hearts that get along.

I’ve traveled a great distance.
Yet have so far to go.
And met with much resistance.
From those that just don’t know.

Tried to explain, to educate.
But end up wasting time.
It always ends up in debate.
With narrow brainwashed minds.

I’ve made mistakes along the way.
Like most everybody does.
By not being open everyday.
To the ones I really love.

Because I’ve lived for someone else.
For way too many years.
The mistakes I made were to myself.
For not facing my worst fears.

River of tears

This time I know I crossed a line.
And paid no heed to the warning signs.
The feelings within me, there all of my life.
As I held them in, they cut like a knife.

I need to release what’s been trapped inside.
Out into the day and no longer hide.
It has all been my fault, of this I do know.
For just not allowing, my true self to show.

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing this!

This story is the sequel to One Sunday Morning, a piece I posted on 9/2/20. A couple of people expressed interest in what happened with Garnet’s friend Jill. I was rather curious about it as well. Thus this story started to take shape. For about a week, then sat on my hard drive for awhile. I decided I wanted to find out more about Jill, and started working on it again. Hope you enjoy!

A word of warning for those who might object. These stories have a definite Christian leaning.

One Summer Sunday – Sequel to One Sunday Morning

Garnet drove.

She was on her way to Joplin, Missouri, to pick up her friend, Jill.

They had worked together in Saint Louis, at a major hospital there, but when Jill came out as trans-gendered, she was abruptly let go by the administrator.

It was Mom who forced me think about what it was that would make me happy, and funnily enough, or maybe not, it was not so very different from what made her happy. I too wanted a husband, a home and a family, but those seemingly simple things turned out to be not at all simple to acquire, and I went through considerably more anguish before I met Evan.

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

To Return Home 2.2

"I don't give a damn who it is, Bernie! I don't want you linking with anyone down there again!"

I stopped on my parent's porch. I had been reaching out to open the door, but now, hearing Daddy yelling, I wasn't sure I wanted to walk in on them. All three of us girls had a standing invitation to simply walk in, as did all of them, including Mama and Daddy, at our homes.

I had a particular reason to not want to walk in on this particular squabble. Mama was doing a favor for me. Apparently Amos was able to connect to others again. It frightened all of us. What was to stop him from trying to control us? I was very much afraid. Controlling me was something he might want to do to get to John.

Three teen age girls exact revenge on the older brother of one of them, who is obnoxious to them, with dire results

The Other Side of Me – Chapter 13
by Limbo’s Mistress

On the ride home from the mall, Katie repeatedly attempted to talk to me about my sudden foul mood. Each time, I refused to even look in her direction. Instead, I merely stared straight ahead at the road and mumbled, “I don’t want to discuss it.”