Ghost & Gods OF My Name

THE POETRY OF Becoming --- To read these words is to know my soul, the fire, the breaking, the cost, the goal. My ink is truth, my scars the proof, the storms that tore became my roof. I’ve walked through pain, through dark, through doubt, and built my faith from the inside out. I write not to impress or shine, but to be seen — this life is mine. If you have ever lost what you adore, if silence hurt and you begged for more, if love once left and the world grew cold, then you already know my story told. --- I am the house — not brick, not beam, but the bones that held a shattered dream. I built these walls from pieces torn, and made a temple out of storm. My cracks are prayers, my scars are stone, I stand, I rise, I stand alone. The rain remembers what I’ve been, each drop a truth that washes sin. Yet thunder hums a second chance, and lightning starts my soul to dance. My pain’s a hymn, my fear’s a prayer, and even there — God’s beauty’s there. --- Love doesn’t die — it just grows still, a faded violet on the hill. I was the keeper, you were the key, but hearts break open to set us free. You gave me scars, I gave you flame, and still I’d choose you just the same. For all the nights my soul was weak, for all the times I couldn’t speak, I buried me to keep the peace, but pain’s the path to soul’s release. Now mercy shines through tear and face, each breath I take — borrowed grace. --- I found myself in shadow’s art, a trembling hand, a beating heart. Each wound a candle, soft and stark, each scar a star to light the dark. I walk by faith, not sight, not chart — I bring myself home through my heart. He took my chaos, made it clear, turned my sorrow to purpose here. He burned away the false desire, and forged my will within His fire. What He began, He will fulfill — for what is broken bends His will. --- To my grandchildren, pure and dear, you are proof that I was here. Each laugh, each tear, each tender cheer, is my love that echoes year to year. Don’t recall my fall, remember my climb, for love outlasts the loss of time. You are my legacy, strong and clear, you are proof that I was here. --- I never thought I’d walk her road, to bear the weight her choices sowed. The woman once my mirror, foe, left me the seeds she’d never grow. Her children — eyes like hers, that spark — I guard them fiercely through the dark. They call for love she cannot give, and so I stay, and so I live. They doubt, they whisper, point, and pry, but I won’t break, and I won’t lie. I fear, I ache, I bend, I pray, but love still outlasts judgment’s day. She burned too bright, too wild, too free, and left her fire here with me. I’ll teach them grace, I’ll teach them worth, to rise with love, to heal the earth. And when they ask what made me stay, I’ll tell them — love outlasts decay. Though she is gone, her soul is near, I will not fail. I am here. --- Who am I now without your face, without your arms, your wild embrace? The house still stands, the candles glow, but empty halls don’t let me know. I gave my youth, I gave my years, my laughter laced with hidden tears. We built, we broke, we tried, we fell, we lived our love, we bore our hell. Then sickness came, and silence grew, and I fought alone — no “us,” just “you.” Strength tastes bitter, hope burns slow, but even in ashes, faith can grow. To love so deep, to end so bare, to stand alone and still be there — they call it life, this hurt, this fight, this endless dawn that conquers night. I am the scar that learned to sing, the broken bell that still can ring. --- You remember my temper, my tone, my sting, but not the weight such wounds can bring. You never saw the nights I cried, the prayers I whispered, terrified. You hold my faults like heavy stones, forgetting I broke to build your homes. I was lost, afraid, too small to see, but still I tried relentlessly. You saw the storm, not how I knelt, you missed the pain that love had felt. If one day, my name brings ache, remember — I gave all I could make. “She tried,” is all I wish you’d say, “She loved us, even when we’d stray.” I was not perfect, never near, but every heartbeat was for you, my dear. --- I tried in every way I knew, to build a life for me and you. I fought the storms, I prayed, I pled, for something whole in what we said. It wasn’t all bad — not by far, we burned bright, a reckless star. I wish forever had been our thread, but pride unspoke what love had said. Still, in the quiet, I recall, our laughter echoing through it all. And though our fire has long burned through, a piece of me still lives in you. You were my home, my heart, my friend, the story I’ll tell to the very end. I loved you more than time allows, I love you still — but softer now. --- I fought You once, oh Source divine, I turned from You, said, “This life’s mine.” The world was loud, my pride was tall, and so I fell — I lost it all. Yet You were patient, still, and near, You let me cry, You let me fear. And when I thought all light was gone, Your mercy rose and led me on. Each scar You traced became Your art, You built Your house inside my heart. Forgive the times I hid my face, I rise anew within Your grace. I walk with You, my truth, my guide, Your holy flame still burns inside. I’ll stumble, yes — but I prevail, My God, my Source — I will not fail. --- If you’ve come this far, you’ve walked with me, through grief, through faith, through memory. These words — the footprints that remain, the echo after all the pain. I am not the storm that broke the sky — I am the calm that learned to fly. Every tear that fell in vain was rain that washed away my chain. Not a victim, not a ghost — a soul reborn from what hurt most. To those who came from me — my blood, my kin, to those who left, and those within — know this: I loved you true and clear, and everything I gave is here. And to my Source, the hand, the light, who pulled me back from endless night — I kept my vow, I rose again, a woman whole, redeemed from pain. When these pages close, don’t cry, don’t fear, I’m not gone — I’m still right here. In laughter, light, in whispered prayer, in wind and warmth — I’m everywhere. Not finished, no — but found, renewed, a life rebuilt, a soul pursued. So read these words and know them true: my storms were many — but I came through.