Sometimes a girl needs a sweet kiss at the base of her neck…
I was just recently nominated for this award. Wow, not something that I would have ever expected. Thank you to Grabbety Covens for nominating me. I have really enjoyed his work on his blog, Surviving the Struggle to Success. His writing is honest and straight forward. You should definitely check him out.
I haven’t been writing for very long and honestly, I just write the way I speak. I’ve found that there are those who do appreciate the simplicity of my style and I’m grateful when they take the time to comment on something I’ve written. So thank you!!!
Who is Rio McKee?
Bloggers I love to follow and read, in no particular order…
To all those I follow, thank you for inspiring me. Every. Single. Day.
You damaged her
with bitter words
tumbling from the tip
of your forked tongue…
found on youtube
One of my favorite songs. Hard to beat this one.
It felt pretty amazing to see this.
Title: Real Raw Hope
Author: Rio McKee
Real Raw Hope is a book of poetry inspired by Rio McKee’s history of trauma and journey towards recovery. McKee shares in the Introduction that she survived an active shooting on her college campus. The trauma of this event prompted her to unlock a larger and deeper history of trauma. The poetry gives voice to the events and pains McKee had silently held secret for so long. This process contributed to McKee’s healing, and she hopes sharing her work will help others feel less alone in their own pains.
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I had to share this, because he captured what it was like to be that girl. I know, because this could have been me. Twenty-eight schools from the first grade through high school. Check out his blog. It’s amazing!
She was the new kid
I was alone in a crowd
She started mid year
I should’ve known everyone
She was used to moving
I went places in my head
Her golden hair made her stand out
My unkempt curly hair did the same
She felt everything was temporary
I was afraid I would always be that way
She was selective on who she befriended
I gave my lunchtime chocolate milk to anyone
She asked me to push her on the swing
I felt the joy and rush she experienced
She set a date for every recess
I now looked forward
She chose me
I let her in
Then one day
She was gone
I pushed an empty swing
I don’t long to reunite
I just hope
That she found
Who loves to swing her
No matter what kind of day I’ve had… or how much I’m struggling… these two are always happy to see me walk in the door.
For over fifty years I have kept secrets locked inside of me. From the age of four I was warned that “if I told” then no one would love me, ever. What a sad state of affairs for anyone who has grown up in this state of mind.
I am well past the half way point in my life and I am tired. Tired of pretending that everything is okay. Tired of making the best of it. Tired of loving people in my life just because “I’m supposed to”. Tired of being afraid.
Every single day I deal with triggers that warn me to shut down, flee, hide, fight and a myriad of other emotions. Over the years I have learned techniques to cope with these triggers, but I am still impacted every… single… day…
I have found a voice through writing. It makes me vulnerable. It makes me feel. It makes me face the truths that I have buried for over five decades.
I didn’t believe I had anything to offer anyone. I didn’t believe I could make a difference. I was wrong.
1, 2, buckle my shoe
3, 4 shut the door
Slivers of light peeking in around the edges
Ragged breathing snaking its way through the keyhole
5, 6, pick up sticks
7, 8 lay them straight
Curled in the corner, small as she can get
Rocking slightly, eyes closed tight, lips moving in prayer
9, 10 do it again
By Miri Elm
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