Healing from Toxic Shame & Relational Trauma. Thank you for reading :)
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She longed for a New York that was before her time Watching from the train window unable to stop the crime She had been here before, uninhibited and free Whispers of a vanishing soul I still hope you dance with me
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Some say she was born too early
Others say she was born too late
She walks a narrow path
At times burdened by another's fate
The karmic energy is heavy
The ancestral wounds are deep
She boarded the 6 with mirrored shades
So nobody could see her weep
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Remember the Orphan
Never have so much pride or fear that you exclude others because they are not one of your own. An orphan may be placed in your path, one whose family hid their cultural identity from others due to unhealed traumas. The orphan has no strong ties to people, places, or a culture to call his/her own. The orphan is no longer a child, but he/she is still searching for belonging. You may have crossed paths with such an individual. The poker face, the razor-sharp wit, the ice-cold tongue, and the smile are all masks of self-preservation.
When he/she boards the train, and the windows to the soul are hidden behind dark-colored sunglasses, you won't see the tears. This person was born into secrets, abandonment, neglect, and exile by their very own people. Perhaps, next time there is a festival, a parade, or an event, invite this person along. But you must be open to meeting such an angel. Be gentle as he/she takes in the sights and sounds of the external world. The orphan has not had much exposure to festivities and celebrations, so the abundance of life can feel unfamiliar to his/her nervous system. Even an outing to a botanical garden, an arcade, the boardwalk, or a café would be an uncomfortable yet welcome gesture.
Have lots of grace. The programming is still strong, as the orphan painfully breaks free. And when people are arguing about ethnicities, subethnicities, cultures, subcultures, and religions...remember the orphan and how humanity trumps all.
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She became her own shelter early on Survival mode forced her to silence her song A razor sharp wit Just one of the ways she hid her pain She put on yet another mask As she boarded that Brooklyn-bound express train
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They told her that a heat wave would be coming soon, but she still believes in a world where one can have pumpkin lattes in June.
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She was just a child...
Anytime she didn't conform
Weaponized silence became the norm
Mommy, will you please talk to me?
The birth of self-betrayal
She struggles to walk free
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She ran out of tears long ago She broke her own heart Now she knows It had to happen For her to get free The black sheep whispered The intergenerational trauma ends with me
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She never went to the promenade dance for they controlled her every move...Years later she danced in the Paris rain and found her own groove.
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Sustain me with your closeness Sustain me with your love Sustain me with your patience Sustain me with your Light from above Sustain me with your compassion Sustain me with your grace Sustain me with your forgiveness Sustain me with your warm embrace
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She walks the dimly lit alleys of New York City Afraid to be seen Yet her inner child yearns to dance To the distant rhythms of drums and tambourines
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Change is possible...
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She had so much pain
She hid it from us all
She had so much pride
She didn't want us to see her fall
She weaponized silence when the illusion of control slipped away
I will heal the intergenerational trauma
Night by night
Day by day
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An alchemist
A healer
A sinner
A saint
She battled herself
Adorned in the fiercest WARPAINT
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An evening in London The sounds of distant thunder and rain She stood on an abandoned platform Waiting for the last train
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