A big thank you to those who voted for me on the yearbook blog. I REALLY APPRECIATE IT. It completely brightened my day. And please, please be sure to sign the yearbook, I want to hear from you all (and will do the same if you are up there). If you aren't go to www.yearbook.mindsay.com and do it. :) Okay enough of that...
In regard to the poem I posted below called "Protection" I was reminded of my writing from when I was younger after being at the clinic and observing my fellow "helping professionals" this week during pre-prac. We were sitting in supervision and I heard people commenting on clients refusing help and I thought of all the times in my own life that it probably appeared that way to others. I suppose that is what prompted me to put up that poem. You cannot force help and you cannot make a person perceive a gesture the same way you do. And this certainly does not make their perception wrong. I can remember believing other's actions (they considered helpful) as threatening and terrifying. It is a good reminder for me as always, to really listen to what the other person needs not assuming I know best (or can do it for them). That poem I'm sure appears different because of how young I was when I wrote it and the style (as well as content). It's pretty dark...it was a dark time. Have a nice night all...
I was destined from the start to be a star
This knowledge frightened many
One man became my every obstacle
Fearing a sick baby
Hating the strength of a child who survived against all odds
He taught me life’s most important rule
Everything has a price
And I exchanged dignity for the illusion of love
Two minutes of security in his arms
For the many hours in which secrets were born
Stripped away much more than my clothing
By day he was another
Those small shorts, underwear and shirts he washed
Patiently folded and put away
Lay balled up beneath my flowered sheets
Meals he lovingly cooked each afternoon
Were followed much later
By the salty substance I was forced to consume
I was the profit to be delivered on the Ides of March
Never to follow another’s lead
I came on the last day of the first month
Signaling the beginning of the end
After I lost all that I was
Allowed night to be twisted
That time which had been mine to shine
But the glow always came from within
He drove slowly to the hospital
Allowing the poison to spread throughout my veins
And I the immortal one
Sat silently in the passenger’s seat
My fans cheering in the background
He could not have what was not to give
When I face him my hands are empty
I am what I choose
Nothing less
And nothing more
A celebrity of my own
sign language
