A Son’s Declaration

A Son’s Declaration
(from the book Blueberry State of Mind, a collection of reflective truths, Missy Smith
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005EGKDQG
I highly encourage you all to get your copy TODAY!

"Black People” My son says!
What about them I ask? They make me so sick he responds. Here is the time being a Mother and not a friend comes into play. Sitting down, I proceed to listen. It was a warm Indian Summer’s day when he made this declaration of dislike towards his own race. You should be proud of where you come from. I am he states, but not towards some of the people that also shares my race. Well, you cannot generalize a whole race because of one mistake made by someone who just so happens to share the same race as you.

Staring at me with those inquisitive hazel eyes made me just open my arms inviting him in. My son, my child, my flesh and blood had become disappointed and disillusioned in his own ancestry. I wanted him to take pride in where he came from and more importantly give him the strength to fledge ahead and become better than those causing him to be incensed. A Mother's arms always seem to do the trick of bringing immediate comfort. Nestling his head against my shoulders like that when he was younger brought great relief to my worrisome soul. Thanks Mom he whispers in that young man's voice he has now acquired. Smiling he breaks our embrace and heads to his room. Relieved, I begin to fix dinner. It was then I realized, I never did find out why “Black People” on this day made him sick.

Hold'n U Down, Love

Hold'n u down

Love,

I remember them days back when

It was you and I till the end back then

Riding till we die we said

Guess that time came sooner than later

Now gone our separate ways, I hate it

But time heals all wounds they say

How much time does it take I say

Cuz it’s been a minute+ a couple of days

Remember when the love flowed freely

Your strong arms holding me securely

Should have known it wouldn't last cuz shit was too easy

Fighting for respect brought about constant regrets

Our forever became our for right now

Unpredictable love

Crazy love

Never quite right type of love

Down

I fell

Never truly getting back up

Midway

Caught in-between limbo

We go

Separate ways

Inconsistent days

Memories of you and I

Tears I'd often cry

Retraced steps when I held u down

The impossible meant nothing where you were concerned

Whatever you needed, "I" made sure you had it

Should we,

Could we,

Dare we

Give it another try?

hmmmmmmmm.......

　

I Finally Cried

So Christmas is finally over. Whew, I escaped not too badly scathed (money wise) that is but mentally it just brought back memories of a painful childhood. Times when I was too afraid to cry, too afraid to say I am not OK. So I learned long ago to smile a little too much, laugh a little louder. All to hide my pain. They say when one is wounded then crying heals those wounds. Thinking to myself now that maybe the reason it took me a long time to heal was because I never allowed myself to cry. I kept it all in. Only telling the pages of my diary secrets I allowed to continuously dirty my soul. Older (Not old lol) but yes older and a little bit wiser, I now know that it's OK to cry. It's OK to say no, I am not OK!

This reflection I wrote when my soul was finally able to do just that. Cry.

Reflection from Blueberry State of Mind, a collection of reflective truths, Missy Smith
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005EGKDQG

                                                                 I Finally Cried

Walking through the door

Addressing no one

Simply going straight to that place of calm

My room

Falling backwards onto my awaiting queen sized bed

Fully dressed ‘cept for kicked off shoes exposing my stocking feet

Letting loose what I for years kept held back

I finally cried

Not full on tears

Slight trickles at first

Then more

Like a dam overflowing its banks

Soaking me completely

So many tears until my vision became blurred

So in turn, I closed my eyes as it allowed the tears to flow in unison

Never bothering reaching for tissues

I just let them fall

One by One

See I cried because I needed too

Crying for all the years I let pain control me

For times when I was too afraid to live

I cried for the damage upon my soul abusers inflicted

I cried because I was so tired of being tired

I cried for letting myself be used

For letting life get so far ahead of me

I cried for losing my way amongst this directionless place

I cried because the love of my life decided he no longer loved me

I cried because love lost her faith in me

I cried because my innocence so long ago was taken

I cried because I allowed myself to become trapped inside myself

Becoming lost and confused, lonely and abused

I cried because I was empty

I cried because I wanted to feel whole again

I cried because it was the only truthful thing I could control doing

Yes, this day here I cried

I cried for my fathers love

I cried because the only man to ever love me (my Grandfather) was no longer earthly here

I cried for my mother to be mentally alive again

I cried because I too was a mother

I cried because I will never be again that very mother

I cried because I grew up too soon

I cried because I did not know which road to travel upon

I cried because it hurt so damn bad

The pain deeply embedded inside my broken heart

I cried because the man I loved though gone still held my soul

I cried because tomorrow will bring back these very same memories

I cried because I wanted to be free

I cried because I realized in this moment of crying that I was releasing

Cleansing my soul of all life’s toxins

I cried because I was finally OK

As I Lay

As I Lay
Author Reflectionist Missy Smith
All rights reserved

As I lay

In a puddle of seduction

In the middle of insecurities

Right next to confusion

On top of emotions drifting bliss

In and out
Out and in

I lay continuously in his midst

Sweet surrender

I dance freely

Greedily consuming even the weakest part of me

Licking lips

Caressing cheeks

Wiping tears

That falls constantly

Joys and pains

Both seemingly the same

Enveloping every bit of me

As I lay

In a puddle of seduction

In the middle of insecurities

Right next to confusion

On top of emotions drifting bliss

In and out
Out and in

I lay continuously in his midst

I want tonight....

When love wishes to grab hold, never letting go.
When the hands of time chooses to keep you trapped.
When misery loves your company.
When your heart simply does not know how to let go.

You have to take a stand, fight through the tears, fears and aloneness to take back the most important thing ever. YOU!

Author Reflectionist Missy Smith


I want tonight
To be the night

That you,

Don’t say you want to kiss me when you really don’t

Don’t say you want to hold me when you really wont

Don’t say you love me when you know you don’t

Don’t say it feels so right when it’s really wrong

Don’t say forever when it’s actually today

Don’t play don’t play

Please, don’t play

Don’t take my heart for it’s not for sale

Give me forever only if you can

Give me tomorrow after tomorrow after tomorrow

Love's bleeding pleas of sorrow

Unexpected your semi rejection

Never understood you being half in

Half out

I'm totally out

My mind

Behind this loss of time

Loss of reason

Loss of rhyme

Tortures winds

Blowing

I'm dancing in the midst of pains bliss

Half in

Half out

Stuck in-between self doubt

Should I,

Should I not

Totally let go?

Hold Me

I long to be held

I was never held cept for when I was a child

My pop pop skeet would hold me for hours

I was a mere child, bout 7 I suppose when he showed me held love

Placed upon his knee, giddy cuz my pop pop loved me

He was a powerful and strong man in nature though not in stature

But it didn't matter cuz to a child (me) he was everything needed

But he's gone now and I miss him so much, even my own father, his son never held me. Never said he loved me. I was never the love of his life like I was of my pop pops, his father I wish u were still here pop pop to hold me again. to show me that love I have never in my lifetime experienced. I just wish someone would hold me (like pop pop) for old time’s sake...

How did I get here?

Back into this state of unsaving grace?

It hurts so badly.

Raw with emotion

I'm 6 again

I'm 7, 8, and 9,10,11,12

Cold, confused, misused

Beggar of Please

Screamer of why me

As I turn the pages of my diary

My best friend,

My minds savior

Inking truths one after another

Dreams, desires, fictional satires

Am I asleep?

Just a moment ago I was happy

I was happy

I was HAPPY damnit

Stop happening upon me

Leave me alone

I got rid of you long ago

Stop wreaking havoc on my fragile soul

I'm 6

I'm 7, 8, and 9,10,11,12

Hold me please.

Biography of Missy Smith

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Missy Smith, A Reflectionist hailed as the voice of now, has finally embraced her soul's journey as a Reflectionist, the term given to her by her late Grandmother. Missy known for taking moments staring off into the world she wished she could live peacefully in found this method to be relaxing. Born in Washington D.C. in the 70's, Missy was a happy and energetic child who loved using words in very descriptive manners.

Missy experienced the horrors of abuse at the tender age of six, which threw her into a world of utter turmoil. Unable to cope with being abused by two male uncles, Missy developed an alter personality to help deal with being abused leading to the name Missy Smith. It would be six more exhausting and brutal years before Missy was finally strong enough to say NO more. During those times, Missy used her mind to escape these horrific moments thus leading her to fantasize about places much happier than the one she resided in. Missy was in the fifth grade when her English teacher realized her talents of writing. Encouraged by her way of story telling, he bestowed Missy with her first journal, which she aptly titled "Blueberry State of Mind".

As a teenager, Missy kept adding more and more to her journal. Stories of lost and found love, abuse and the dysfunction of her family. At 13 Missy became depressed remembering losing her childhood to abuse. She started lashing out at anyone who crossed her path. Writing and school became her solace from her shameful world. Writing began to consume Missy as she wrote about everything stemming from her pain. At 16, Missy dropped out of school altogether as her mind started taking a turn for the worse. Running with the wrong crowd brought about destructive behaviors.

Becoming a mother during her teenage years brought a calming sense to her chaotic soul. Her son, the love of her life was the determining factor that made Missy reevaluate her life. It was then Missy decided with the help and guidance of her mother to go back to school getting her high school diploma. Upon receiving her diploma, Missy took any and every job just to make sure her son wanted for nothing.

Still, the writing she at times began putting on the back burner beckoned her, upon letting friends know how much she enjoyed writing, they encouraged Missy to take a chance and begin the process of publishing her emotional truths. With journals in hand, Missy sought out to make this dream of past her reality now. Since changing her name during her teenage years, Missy decided to stick to writing under the name Missy Smith that brought comfort to her.

Missy began studying the works of Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Rita Dove, Gwendolyn Brooks and Ai; it was their words that gave Missy the strength to now share hers. Maya and Nikki were the closest to her style of writing and so with pride Missy decided to simply take that leap of faith and begin contacting publishing houses. With no one immediately clamoring for her brand of writing, Missy decided self-publishing was her best option. Once again, with the support and guidance of her mother, Missy began compiling some of her most heartfelt "Reflections" that are now in her book Blueberry State of Mind, a collection of reflective truths.

A Reflectionist who not only wrote poetry, Missy also lived the very poems gracing her books pages.

With the publishing of her book, Missy now wishes to fulfill other dreams. Dreams of writing a movie based on the very book Blueberry State of Mind. Missy wishes to increase the spotlight on abuse of every form. From sexual to relationship abuse and yes even family abuse, she wishes to bring awareness to all about this disheartening trend.

One of Missy's favorite poems penned by Ms. Angelou is Phenomenal Woman. Missy also has a few penned by herself that touches her to the core. Her Poem entitled Survivor allowed her to embrace her inner demons and do just that. Survive. Missy also loves her poem entitled Gentle Wings, which is a tribute to her mother. Finally able to speak out on her years of abuse at the hands of uncles and the man she gave her heart too; Missy now has started her journey onto healing. Missy's wish is for her words to soothe aching souls while healing wounded hearts.

Blueberry State of Mind, a collection of reflective truths by Missy Smith is the 1st installment in her "Life Poetry" series. With her love of writing growing more and more with each passing day, Missy is now hard at work on her next book of Poetry as well as a fictional Novel. Yes writing has grabbed a hold of Missy and thankfully refuses to let go.