Photo/Music Challenge: Sunlight Too #shortfiction #amwriting #dierksbentley


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting PhotoChallenge 200. Also, thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this last Friday’s Music Challenge “I’ll Be the Moon” by Dierks Bentley Ft. Maron Morris.


Credit: Justin Peters


“I’ll Be the Moon” by Dierks Bentley Ft. Maron Morris


It begins innocently. A few words, a few texts that turn into a few hundred messages. A few phone calls and coffees. A few drinks, and late night conversations. My phone lights up in the dark. “Where are you?”

“Come meet me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Kier, meet for a drink. For an hour, maybe two, maybe three.”

“Baby, I’m in.” I speed towards our favorite restaurant bar. Our relationship has never passed conversation. Eyes locked for eons, long enough to drown in each other’s presence.

Jovial talk and laughter echo as I open the worn door. I find you in the bar area, in are usual place. My pulse thumps louder and your smile lights up my heart. Elation and a sense of tranquility rushes through my veins.

You take a sip of your beer then, saunter over to greet me. Grabbing my cold hands, you warm them, caressing them before grazing the back of your hand against my cheek. Its silkiness stokes a fire, igniting embers inside me.

“Girl, you can’t take your eyes off me, can you?”

You chuckle and lean into me, forehead against my chest. “Yeah, I’ve been missing the sight of you. I keep thinking about you.”

Your words are sweet relief, and our first kiss overwhelms me. I grasp your vanilla scented hair in my fingers. Your lips brush mine over and over. I nip your bottom lip, and the clammer of voices and TV’s in the bar fade.

I’ve dreamt of kissing you often. Is it even real? Then, you moan and the kiss elevates, lips melding, and tongues meeting faster; passion burns brighter in us both. We’re lost until a waitress pokes my shoulder. Her sharp nail bites, and breaks our fog.

“Hey, Kier.”

“Oh, Brandy. We’re kind of busy. I stare at your swollen lips, and prepare to dive back in for more.

You move away slightly, gripping my shirt, eyes wide. There’s enough room for Brandy to half squeeze and wiggle between our bodies.

“Kier, you want a beer? You haven’t ordered. There’s specials on tap or do you want your regular?” Brandy presses her red lips together. She. wiggles her chest against my side. Her scoop neck t-shirt leaves cleavage bulging. But I’m not interested in her and never have been.

I peer at you, your biting your lip. Your eyes narrow at Brandy. “My regular drink’s fine, Brandy.”

She peers at you and freezes. You roll your eyes and she flushes. Her lips form a practiced fake smile. Brandy sways her hips, teetering back to the bar on red heels.

You burst out laughing and snuggle into my checked shirt and chest. Then, you pull my my face down towards your lips. Your hands sneak around my back, and stroke my back beneath my shirt.

“Mmm.” I can’t help moaning. Our lips clash, the sparks between us explode. I lead you back towards the booth, where no one will bother us.

We converse, and make-out as if we’re both sixteen. We laugh for hour, and I never want the night to end. When your ringtone, “House of the Rising Sun” goes off, ‘his name’ pops up on your caller ID. I stare at the floor, hiding my disappointment.

You brush your hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, it’s time to leave. I need to go home. ‘He’s’ wondering where I am.”

I hate your excuses, but sigh against your neck. I place small wet kisses up your neck towards your velvet earlobe. You giggle and push me away half-heartedly.

I grasp your small chin. “Ain’t no one gotta know. Please, Mer, one more kiss before you go.”

As you walk away, I admire your toned legs, your skirt swishing around your knees. You stop, turning your head back, and flash your sweet blue eyes at me. Your coy smile lingers in my mind as you saunter out the door. You don’t know how sexy you are, even when you’re leaving me behind.

I grumble to myself, stretching out in the booth. What are you doing? She’s married and it’s going to get complicated. Then, my heart comments. It’s already complicated, Kier, and you know it. You might as well see it through and see what happens.

Brandy strolls up to me, sliding her hand down my arm. She’s young with glossy black hair and whisky-colored eyes, but she has no substance. Her beauty has nothing on your mahogany curls, sparkling green eyes, and your plush pink lips.

She lacks your ironic sense of humor and innate sweetness. I push Brandy off me and drink my third beer. I imagine your silk skin in my arms, that we’re in a place where no one disturbs us until we say so.

*****

A couple of days later you call me, distraught and weeping.

“I can’t do this to my husband, he loves me. We’ve ten-years together.” The weight of those years is in your voice. You’re audibly exhausted and frustrated; your tears pierce through me.

“So, he’s cheating, again?”

“Yeah, his fifth affair, that I know about.”

“Ten years, huh? I don’t wanna be a liar, Mer. And I don’t wanna be a fool, but I hate keeping our affair a secret. I’m sorry he’s cheating, but you deserve love too. Give us a chance. Leave ‘him.’ I would never cheat on you, and we’ll be so much better than you and ‘what’s his name.'”

“We are more. You’ve always been more to me than him, even when you left.” You’re whispering. I wander if you’re hiding in the laundry room, so ‘he’ doesn’t hear our call.

Your voice wobbles. “You’re all I have, ‘he’ doesn’t know me as you know me. He doesn’t love the me from long ago, or the me today. Kier, please always love me, and don’t let me go. Someday soon, this will all work out.”

I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t care anymore. “Okay, Mer, for now our relationship can remain a secret. I will do this for you, if you want me to. Can you do this? Juggle your husband’s infidelities and us? Sometime soon you have to make up your mind. A man that treats you like ‘he‘ does isn’t worth your time.”

You cry louder. “I never thought I’d see you after all these years. I can’t let you go again. It ripped me apart when you left. It was the reason I married ‘him.’ I didn’t have to think about the hole in my heart from you, with ‘him;’ at least until his first affair.”

” I never meant to hurt you, but I had to leave, to see the world. Now I’m home, for good.”

“I’m glad. Are we going to meet tonight? ‘He’s’ going out to see her.”

” How about somewhere in-between where you and I live? If that’s what you want, we can meet as often as we’re able. I still feel as if you’re leavin’ me in the dark, accepting an affair. I want more. For now, he can be your sun and I’ll be your moon.”

“You’re so lyrical. I love that about you.”

“Sometimes I am. But, it makes sense. He has your days, and I have your nights, time permitting. But what happens when the two times intersect? He can be the sun and I’ll be the moon, for now, but not forever.”

****

It’s a lavish hotel with swanky modern minimelest decor. The bed is swathed in white, with a mattress so comfortable you could sink into it. You’re stretched out, our skin flush and our limbs tangled after hours of loving. I kiss your forehead, brushing my fingers through your mahogany curls.

Suddenly, ‘his’ ringtone goes off. Your phone lights up.

I kiss your cheeks and your sweet lips.

You bury your face in the pillow, moaning. “Gotta go. He’s wondering where I am.”

“I know, but it still ain’t easy. Just tonight, stay longer. Stay for the whole night. Say you’re at your friend’s place having a girl’s night after a hard day. Call your friend, Liz. She’ll back you up. Tell ‘him’ you forgot to phone or text him earlier.”

“I don’t forget to tell him stuff like that.”

“Maybe, you do, only this once.”

You giggle, “Someone’s creative tonight. You must really want me to stay. I want to stay too.” You smile, plush lips brushing mine, before placing your head on my chest. I wonder if you can hear how fast my heart beats when I’m entwined with you.

You raise your head, your green eyes alight. You kiss me hard, not soft but with need. There’s desperation in your kiss.

You climb on top of me. “One more time before I go.”

I grin. Our kisses and caresses multiply, tightening the cord of our connection. Later, you’re gone, but I’m lay awake in the early morning hours.

My mind won’t stop circling. Tomorrow, she’ll be waking up beside him. She’ll tell him that you loves him, but I know, Mer, doesn’t mean it. She loves me she told me so. She doesn’t love him at all, she never has.

****

For over five months now, we continue to meet whenever possible. Unexpectedly, we have the whole weekend to ourselves. ‘He’s’off on a business trip. You told me ‘he’ has a new mistress, affair number six. I don’t understand how he doesn’t know he has the best of all women in you.

You’re splayed on top of me and we’re both gasping for breath. You pull the blankets up around us as our sweat cools; your head fitted in the crook of my neck until you raise it.

You bite your lip, peering at me. “In my mind when I’m looking at him, and when I think of him, I don’t see us continuing on like this. We’ve had ten years, but ten years of what? Ten years of lies and deceit, now on both our parts.”

I rub your back. You talk about him a lot some nights. Thinking aloud, attempting to solve the riddle. How do you let your husband know you want a divorce, that there was never any love between either of you.

You kiss my neck, then my heart. “I’ve been lying about loving him for years. I can’t stand all his affairs, but are we any better? We’re having our own affair now? I feel so guilty, but at the same time, I don’t care anymore. He deserves it.”

“I hate this.” I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I have to tell you. ” He’s always the elephant in the room. No matter what you think, he’s never known the real you. He doesn’t see you for you, or the false life you both live. But girl, I see you and know the truth. I see you clearer than he ever will.”

I flip you over, resting on top of your sweet body and my forearms. “Don’t let this be a secret any longer. I don’t want to only be the moon; I want to be sunlight too.”

I kiss you tangling my lips and tongue with yours, channeling my will into our loving making. Between gasps you whisper, “Tuesday, I’ll see my lawyer.”

My eyes widen and you giggle, kissing my joyful grin. I tickle you, then my hands make the familiar journey down you alabaster freckled skin.

Before you leave I try to encourage you. “I’m no longer the moon, but sunlight too. I’m every time of day with you.”

You kiss me, holding our heads nose to nose. ” You’re the sun and the moon and everything in-between.”


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Day 5 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – A L’Arora – “Steps To Eternity” #amwriting #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


For Day 5, the NaPoWriMo poetry prompt is ” to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often.” The accompanying A to Z Challenge today starts with a GoodRead’s author’s quote, with a name beginning with the letter E.


Forest Pathway NaNo
Credit: http://www.combiboilersleeds.com

“I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.” ― Emma Goldman


*****

Down the path of foliage, between all the trees,

It’s where I find my space, my home sweet home.

There’s something about crisp green leaves,

Wet after the rain, while the dew clings, not letting go.

With road passing through, steps to eternity,

Enthrall me in summer’s breath, the scent of the morning,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Tree branches entwining, limbs gripped with passion,

Used to the presence of parallel lovers.

They’re completely attached, unwilling to let go,

Nymphs holding fast, enraptured with each other,

With the road passing through, steps to eternity, 

Absorbing the thrill of the mid-summer fairy dance.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Some brilliant reckless person crafted this road,

Travelers speeding through trees, guarding the sacred path.

Some pause knowing they’ve discovered sanctuary,

Freedoms breeze, they’ll stop to admire the sentinels guarding.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity,

A place where verdant nature, holds a secret prosperity.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

For hours I’ve wandered through lush trees,

Delicate roses growing, shadowed by dripping leaves.

Overcome am I, by epic beauty, of roses sweetly pink,

Crushing them in my hands, to absorb the memories.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity.

Inhaling the fragrance of aspiring life, in roses soft,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security. 

*****

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – Spectre of Death #amwriting #fiction #death


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt: 

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Credit: “Minutes to Midnight” – http://www.hunternif.deviantart.com

——-

Time’s clock is forever ticking above death’s throne. The clock’s glass face absorbes the colours of the landscape where death resides. The greyish-green of the stone mass, a floating island, and the pinky-red fire of the sky above and below, reflects on the clock’s face. 

The figure of death sits soberly in his throne. The stone carved form a perfect fit for his lanky tall body. Beneath death’s left and right hands, the leering skulls of his first two victims sit. They are from our first two ancestors, people who lived exceptionally long compared to the humans living in modern times. Adam and Eve had tried to evade death, even though they knew he was coming for them. They had been ignorant and had no idea what death actually meant until they breathed their last. 

Their souls he’d had to let fly in heaven, gold birds with giant wings exploring their freedom and return to painlessness. He had kept their skulls, though one day he knew he would have to return them. For now, Adam and Eve’s skulls peered eerily out onto whichever soul was before death seated on his throne. Together with the dying person, death watched their last seconds of life tick away. He towered over them in his realm and let their soul sour to heaven or to hell, there was no inbetween except him. 

Some souls who stood before him were not afraid. This always amazed death. He was an imposing figure, giant and fearsome, his red hair as consuming flames, and his eyes burning coals. Some humans gazed up at him with what frightened death as wisdom, something they had gained, which few knew, not even him. Their souls flew away and he knew he would never see them again. Other people crumbled before him and he took time to torment them whether they went below or above. He was death after all, a fearsome being. 

Yet, he had no control where a soul went. Death had no power to choose or to do as he wanted. He had a job, a task. He was death, he killed; but he was not merely an end. He was also the beginning. What he valued most of all, freeing those souls trapped in decaying bodies or in bodies injured profusely. Death was a contradiction of terms, both good and evil. Souls of faith went above and souls of disbelief went down to hades. Even death was afraid of what lay far beneath him in the abyss. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Interview With Jackelyn Santana


Welcome back to another December issue of my biweekly interview series. Today I’m interviewing the gracious and beautiful Jackelyn Santana who was recently married. She has a faith based blog here: Faith Walking Hebrews 11:1. She describes her blog using the Hebrews 1:11 Bible Verse: “Now Faith Is The Assurance of Things Hoped For, The Conviction of things Not Seen.”


jackelyninterview
Jackelyn Santana

1. Jackelyn, Please Tell Us About Yourself?

My name is Jackelyn Santana, I am from Miami, FL, and my family is of Cuban descent.I am a child of God and passionate about my faith. I LOVE reading, blogging, and spending time with my family.  I was married on November 11, 2016 and  I am a mother to an amazing six-year-old and a stepmother to two beautiful young ladies.

This year has been full of blessings. To emotionally prepare myself for our marriage, I spent the year analyzing myself and I’m finally at a place where I can embrace my authenticity. I spent a good portion of my life internalizing my pain, wearing masks to cope, and believing something was wrong because I didn’t have everything as it seemed everyone around me had.

Having this frame of mind enslaved me. There wasn’t anything wrong with what I was facing, but because there’s a stigma associated with imperfection and emotional struggle, I thought it was a ‘ME’ problem. I didn’t realize the truth, my problems were natural and universal.

As I began opening up and peeling off the layers I was hiding under, I discovered more and more people who hid there pain as I was doing. We strengthened each other, helped each other heal, celebrated our spiritual growth, and learned to love ourselves no matter where we are in life.

The most beautiful thing I’ve witnessed is a group of hopeless lost souls coming together and loving each other back to life. We found a reason to smile again. This world is in such need of healing. I would love nothing more than to help spread love and healing wherever I go in my life.


” As I began opening up and peeling off the layers I was hiding under, I discovered more and more  people who hid there pain as I was doing. We strengthened each other, helped each other heal, celebrated our spiritual growth, and learned to love ourselves no matter where we are in life.” – Jackelyn Santana


2. When Did You Begin Blogging? What Does Blogging and Writing Mean To You?

I started blogging about four months ago July 20, 2016 to be exact. Blogging means everything to me! It’s liberated me. I’m free!! The more I write about things, the less ashamed I am of what I’ve faced. With each post I’ve removed the chains of emotions and experiences I kept a secret. These emotions and experiences have lost power over me.

This has allowed me to acknowledge and celebrate my spiritual growth. I enjoy interacting with other bloggers. Blogging also gives me an inside view of my soul. Sometimes I’m shocked when I read older posts because when I wrote, I let the words flow from my soul and they expressed things I wouldn’t voice out loud.


3. Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation To Write?

I am inspired by my faith and other bloggers. I began blogging about one-year ago, but I didn’t think I could write posts people would want to read. I’m better at public speaking than I am at writing. A co-worker of mine kept pushing me to write. I would share advice with her and she would nudge me to put it on paper. I finally decided to test the waters by submitting a guest post on Proverbs 31 Women.

They approved my guest post one-month later and I was shocked and honored.  I started writing away on my blog often. My faith in God changed my life, it wasn’t until I understood my faith better that I was able to apply its principles to my life. In the past few years I’ve uncovered so much richness I was missing out on because I didn’t study my beliefs. It’s become a way of life for me and I want to help others learn about Jesus in practical terms.

Many times when we think of the Bible we think of a standard which is too high for most of us to reach. The Bible comes across as something only ‘Holy’ people read. Or, we become intimidated by it because we find it unrelatable since The Bible was written many moons ago and times have changed.

These ideas of Christianity couldn’t be further from the truth. We need to find the right tools to break down barriers from reading God’s Word, The Bible, and help others understand faith in simpler terms. Believing in Jesus can guide us towards love and happiness. Once we understand the basics, our soul will keep searching for more – our hearts will be “homing our Heavenly home,” if you will, and we will grow spiritually.

By identifying with examples from the stories in The Bible, we can understand our obstacles are not too much, our lives can be molded in a way which allows us to serve both God, our families, and friends because they’re all related.

God acknowledges our need for connection and sent his son Jesus not only so that we could be saved, but so we could identify with Jesus and strive to imitate His way of life. As a woman, fiancee, and mother, I have been able to love more purely and unconditionally through The Bible’s teachings, making them a way of life.

Reflecting on the dark moments I’ve faced, I see how fine the line between good and evil can be — being saved or being lost; I want to help others be saved as I am saved through Jesus’s death and resurrection. 


“My faith in God changed my life, it wasn’t until I understood my faith better that I was able to apply its principles to my life. In the past few years I’ve uncovered so much richness I was missing out on because I didn’t study my beliefs.’ – Jackelyn Santana


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Jackelyn Santana

4. When Do You Like to Write and Do You Have Any Current Special Writing Projects?

There isn’t a time of day that inspires me the most. I write whenever my heart moves me to write. As of today I’m only blogging. My passion and dream is to help others. Perhaps join /create a traveling retreat group, or participate in spiritual workshops. This is a concept similar to a ‘Women of Faith’ tour, but on a smaller more personal level.

There would be one to one interaction, healing exercises, and honest group talk. I would love to help others come out of their shells and be saved through faith in Jesus and God as I was. My healing is made possible through God and meeting an amazing group of women in my Emmaus Ministry who were transparent about their struggles and shared tips on overcoming the obstacles of life.


5. Are You Planning on Publishing Any Written Work in The Future?

I have not published anything. Perhaps later in life I will be presented the opportunity to do so, or I will submit writing drafts. With only four-months of blogging under my belt I’m focusing on identifying my writing voice, interacting with others through my writing, and improving my writing skills which are at a novice level. I would also like to study theology and I think it would further advance my writing.


“My healing is made possible through God and meeting an amazing group of women in my Emmaus Ministry who were transparent about their struggles and shared tips on overcoming the obstacles of life.”


6. What Is Your Writing Process Like?

I sit in front of my laptop or a notepad and I pray, relax, and set my soul free to express itself. When an idea pops into my mind I write it down either on my phone’s notepad, or sticky notes. I may begin draft posts that I revisit at a later time when I can give my writing undivided attention. I have about fourteen draft posts which I’ve begun and I’m saving for the future blog posts.

When I first started blogging I would write and post instantly. I’ve learned to slow down and process topics, allowing my mind to continue digging for information. I will officially post my writing after I have looked at every angle.


7. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers Starting Out?

Write about topics you are passionate about. It feels great to do what you love. I love what I write about and it’s how I live my life. If you’re on the fence about writing I would suggest you take a leap of faith and see what comes from this desire.

WordPress has a wonderful community of bloggers and this community helps you grow as a writer. Don’t write posts for the sake of increasing traffic and followers, write on topics you enjoy writing about.  


8. Is There Anything Else You Would Like To Share Pertinent to Yourself or Your Writing?

I am God’s creation, I am human, I am imperfect, and I am meant to depend on God. Read this post to learn more about me.


9. Please Share With Us Some Of Your Favorite Blog Posts:

Slogging Through The Tears

By Jackelyn Santana

*****

“Sensitive people are the most genuine and honest people you will ever meet. There is nothing they won’t tell you about themselves if they trust your kindness. However, the moment you betray them, reject them or devalue them, they become the worse type of person. Unfortunately, they end up hurting themselves in the long run. They don’t want to hurt other people. It is against their very nature.  They want to make amends and undo the wrong they did. Their life is a wave of  highs and lows. They live with guilt and constant pain over unresolved situations and misunderstandings.  They are tortured souls that are not able to live with hatred or being hated. This type of person needs  the most love anyone can give them because their soul has been constantly bruised by others. However, despite the tragedy of what they have to go through in life, they remain the most compassionate people worth knowing, and the ones that often become activists for the broken hearted, forgotten and the misunderstood. They are angels with broken wings that only fly when loved.” –Shannon L. Alder

 *****

I am on an emotional roller coaster ride.

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I will not try to deny it, this is who I am, sensitivity and all. I wear my sensitivity as a badge of honor, although throughout life I have been ridiculed or further wounded because of it. I cannot control the sensitive nature of my heart. I may pretend something has not stabbed or wounded me, but more likely than not this is not the case.

For many years I have tried to harden myself, hoping that I would become immune to the blows of life, and the harsh words received from those I hold with high esteem. Despite my efforts, my sensitive nature is unchanged.

My sensitive nature is misunderstood.

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Those closest to me believe they understand me and my motives. They believe they can read between the lines. Many dare to correct me when I express my intentions and motives, determined their interpretation of my position is correct. My hard and serious exterior denies me the right to ever be recognized as a victim, although, my heart tells me otherwise. Many times I find myself confused, doubting my heart, thinking that there is something severely wrong because I’m always wrong and never right about my own feelings. Maybe I am bad at the core?

One Of My Favorite Bible Verses:

“For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate.”  Romans 7:15

broken-heartIn my case, I do not understand why I continue to love and care the way I do. I know better, yet I cannot help it. I continue to express my vulnerabilities to those I care about in hopes that I will be understood. The more I explain myself, the further away I get from MY truth, and the closer I get to shedding unfavorable light on myself. I allow the fighter in me to get the best of me when I feel taken advantage of. This without a doubt, is used against me as I fail to be consistent, giving in to my human frailty. I can only be silent for so long without jumping into protective mode. I can only shed so many tears without lashing out. The cruelty I spew is the cruelty I have learned through life, it is not the natural nature of my heart. I would never purposely provoke tears from anyone, not even those who have hurt me profoundly. Yet sometimes acting in this manner is the only way I can get someone to listen to my voice and believe my truth. I am neither too proud to extend an apology when deserved and make amends with those I’ve offended. My truest desire is to maintain peace.

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I am not taken seriously in my tender moments; my tenderness is taken for granted. The world demands yet resents my tenderness. Should a loved one offend me, my tenderness is an inconvenience because my tears take away from focusing on the “root” of the problem, and I am forced to slog against the tears. Should I act sternly with others, not allowing my emotions to flinch, I’m accused of being cold and harsh. The combination of my emotions is never seen as right.

It seems my sensitivity is to be used at the convenience of others. I can never be me. I’m never entitled to the beauty of my emotions. My view of my emotions is brushed off because I am overly sensitive. Yet, I cannot label the world as overly cruel, overly angry, or overly unforgiving.

I read once that instead of numbing our pain we need to identify the source of our pain and work on the problem instead of the symptom. For example, we may have a headache because we are dehydrated, hungry, or stressed. We should work on fixing those issues rather than silencing the headache calling out for attention.

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The same goes for my tears. My tears, the ‘water works’ as they’ve been called, are not crocodile tears. It’s not an act or an attempt to manipulate; these statements couldn’t be further from the truth. My tears are indicators that my soul is experiencing pain, something is hurting me. To stop my pain at it’s root I need to either freeze my heart (which I have failed to accomplish) or excuse myself from the undesirable situation until I’m emotionally ready. This I can rarely accomplish without ridicule that I cannot work through a topic, without being accused of being overly dramatic.

I am always apologizing, but rarely entitled to an apology when hurt because my over-sensitivity is what causes the pain, not the actions or words of others.

When is my sensitive nature ever right for me!?

People say my tears and sensitive nature take away from the moment. I have slogged away for a good portion of my life to hide these parts of myself. I keep my tears a secret and am ashamed of my weakness.

As an adult, I find that my sensitive nature and heart are not the problem. The problem is the lack of sensitivity in the world. It’s not the compassionate who are the problem; a lack of empathy is the problem!  I will continue to embrace my sensitivity, tears and all. I do not lose hope there are more sensitive people out there. I won’t (and truthfully can’t) harden myself and lose hope because I find the world to be cruel and unloving. I am who I am. I am transparent.My anger is pain masked with anger. It’s sadness for being the recipient of a pain I would never wish to inflict on others. It’s a betrayal I never foresaw. It’s the second opportunity no one else would’ve extended, yet I’ve already extended a third to my offender while knowing how the situation will likely end. It’s fighting the urge to assume the worst in others. It’s the unconditional love I am willing to give which is rarely cashed in.

It’s the product of a broken heart living in a broken world that is trying to break the best in me.

  “Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a “hot mess” or having “too many issues” are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.” – Anthon St. Maarten

Slog

*****


Here Are More of Jackelyn’s Posts:


Thank you so much Jackelyn for agreeing to be interviewed. I am thrilled to find out so much about you and hope your struggles in life have become easier to handle through your faith. I hope you have more peaceful moments, than times which stress you out. Here is one more link to Jackelyn’s BlogFaith Walking Hebrews 11:1


Thanks for reading! If you would like to answer some interview questions about writing/blogging/poetry and your unique perspective and process on writing, I would encourage you to reach-out to me on my Contact Page. I would love to have you featured as a biweekly interviewee. See you in two-weeks!


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday Music Challenge: Poetry – Licentia – “Love Anew” #poetry #amwriting


Thank you to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s music challenge prompt. The two songs for the prompt are Warren Zevon’s “Never Too Late for Love” and “Keep Me In Your Heart.” 

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Warren Zevon – “Never Too Late for Love” 

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Warren Zevon – “Keep Me In Your Heart”

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Life rolls by you think you’re forgotten but wait

Your heart holds me, for love it’s never too late.

She wasn’t the one, it happened again — you failed, 

Tonight you’ll drink beer, eat  ice cream, pass out –wail.

For your lover who’s lost, who never loved you, 

You filled her time, until the right match came through. 

It’s easy to lay on the couch all day mad,

Or curse, yell about why she makes you so irate.

But two-weeks have passed, end the bereavement stage, 

Time to awake, you’re alive so live –engage.

Life rolls by you think you’re forgotten but wait —

Your heart holds me,  for love it’s never too late.
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She wasn’t the one, it happened again, you failed, 

Tonight you’ll drink beer, eat ice cream, pass out –wail.

Don’t fall back to bad habits, find a routein, 

You may feel empty, fake it until you believe —

You’re content, a person with friends and full life.

Realizing you’d lost the you from you, your light. 

Inner spark rekindled, explore as you please, 

Don’t ditch your mates, laugh — stretch your soul, be appeased. 

Expand your knowledge, discover new interests, 

No guilt, you’re learning to assert, not splinter. 

Life rolls by you think you’re forgotten but wait —

Your heart holds me, for love it’s never too late.
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For your lover who’s lost, who never loved you, 

You filled their time, until the right match came through. 

I’ve been waiting long, for a glimpse of your grin.

For you to open up, for you to to heal within. 

At the right moment, I’ll reveal my secret. 

Loved you, from the first moment; feel such weakness, 

Didn’t try to push, always near you, I seek. 

Your lips in the car, a wonderful surprise, 

Never thought you loved me; now I realize.

Life rolls by you think you’re forgotten but wait —

Your heart holds me, for love it’s never too late.

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It’s easy to lay on the couch all day mad.

Or curse, yell about why she made you so irate.

You’ve me in your grasp now, I won’t let her win.

For you to feel sorrow over her, such a sin.
She wasn’t worth your effort, wasn’t worth your time.

I’m loyal; I’m steadfast; we’re friends first, consign —

Awful memories to experience, and love me more.

Distance may separate, years pass –our love’s sworn. 

Who was she? Thank her hurtfulness thoughtfully, 

Pain healed, gave –love, passion, silence comfortably. 

Life rolls by you think you’re forgotten but wait —

Your heart holds me , for love it’s never too late.



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The Licentia Rhyme Form, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of at least three – 12-line stanzas with 11 syllables per line. Of course, the poem can be elongated adding on to the following rhyme scheme: aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA. The Licentia Rhyme Form is named after Laura Lamarca’s signature, “La” and “Licentia” is Latin for “Freedom.” – Shadow Poetry

Please see: http://www.shadowpoetry.com for further information. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Notable Quotes October 2016 Part One #quotes #pinterest


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Dial on the Metal Desk #amwriting #fiction


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. Also, thank you to The Daily Prompt for the prompt words Rebuild and Understanding

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Nonnaci

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“What do you think it does?” Wallace asked Ed.

“I don’t know,” Ed said thoughtfully, ” It’s odd, don’t you think? A dial in the middle of a metal desk? There has to be a purpose for it.”

“I’m sure it has a purpose. I’m not sure we should be the ones finding out what the purpose is. Rivers was a bit crazy. He was in intelligence in the army during WWII. My Grandma Milly always said he had claimed to have uncovered something world changing.” Wallace remarked.

“I didn’t know Canada had spies in WWII?  But what I really want to understand what this dial does. Rivers died last May, and this desk in his old garage is the only furniture left in his entire home.”

“Fine!” Wallace said exasperated with Ed. He turned the dial on the desk fully around until in was in line with a red mark.

“Rivers probably thought his property would stay deserted. It was closed up the by health and safety shortly before he passed on,” Ed muttered, waiting for something to happen.

“Click! Click! Click!” The sounds were loud and ominous in the abandoned garage. The young men turned to each other eyes wide.The garage floor began to lower with Wallace and Ed standing on it. 

Beneath the garage, was the most terrifying and fascinating thing, Wallace and Ed had ever seen.

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” Wallace said afterward shaken.

“Agreed,” said Ed, “We need to hide it better. This information could force the entire world to rebuild.  

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

June Quotes: Words of Wisdom #quotes #inspiration


Good Morning! Here are some quotes for the month of June to make you think and ponder. Hope you enjoy and I apologize if I’m repeating any from the last time I did a similar post.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101: Poem – Shadorma – “Plastic” #everydayinspiration #amwriting


The Writing 101 prompt for the second last day of the course, is to feature a guest. I will have Jacqueline from A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales doing a guest post interview in the coming days. Maybe, a week or two. So that’s when I will fulfill the prompt. For today I have a poem for you to enjoy. 

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http://www.kencloudpix.co

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The plastic,

Face of Ken Doll I —

Grew up with,

Playing Barbie,

His head nothing special, no —

Hair to comb; plastic.

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But I find,

Ken doll, he never–

Went away.

I see his —

Visage, the face of many —

Men; breathing and real.

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Yet I can’t,

Deal with the facts which —

Say the truth,

You’re alive–

So plastic, nothing could make–

You smile for real, yet —

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All I see,

Is eyes a fake shade,

Contact lens,

Enhanced blue,

Secrets beneath, hiding you,

Botox face, contorted. 

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You do the —

Right things, say the right —

Words to speak.

But plastic,

Is cheap and replaceable,

Because beneath – nil.

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Deception,

It hides handsome grins,

Manipulate,

Barter lives,

Pirate at heart hiding guise,

Suit, Cologne, slick hair.

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Slick like you —

Secrets you’re keeping,

Putting up —

Your own front.

Hiding genuine you; tired —

Of being plastic.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101: Poem – Wrapped Poetry- “Life Rope”#everydayinspiration


Today’s Writing 101 prompt is a piece of writing using the words or one word from this list:

  • HOPE
  • REGRET
  • HOME
  • CHOICE
  • SECRET
  • ABUNDANCE

hand Rope
http://www.thebounceblog.com

 

I have hopes for a life with choice,

To make decisions with my voice.

Freedom can be costly but I’m —

No afraid to chose my path line.

Regret is something tragic and I never want,

To say later, I regret: what was was; so flaunt.


Engage in life and say regret

Nothing; always chose my very best.

Tried to help people in life find home.

Rest from the nomadic ways roamed.

Find home in people, in those you’re blessed to reach-out,

Find abundance in your home, with people you don’t flout.


In home there is hope and joy which,

Makes a solitary being wish,

For personal time, secrecy,

Not bad secrets, but privacy.

This is my why it’s good to have choice because we need both.

Home and choice, to be alone when needed, not to loath–


Our families but to live; be content.

Not to say I had no choice; was sent —

To have abundance of blessings,

Thankful for everything, joy rings.

No dark secrets among us, only time alone needed.

Recognizing each person needs a few freedoms.


 

Keep hoping you’ll see, I’m honest.

Gaze into my eyes, hear our song.

Our secrets are safe between us,

You and I, abundant life trust.

We’re provided for in our home, no fear, merely hope.

I have hopes our happiness lasts; you’re my life rope.


 

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.