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Lost & Found

It was too long ago to even remember what I had done, that caused me to have to stare aimlessly at the dried noodles stuck to the multi-colored construction paper hanging from the ceiling. Left with only the thoughts of what I was going to do after I was released from the classroom turned timeout corner, I sat there. I sat there until the class came back—until the last kid got nice and comfortable in his seat. I sat there until the teacher started to resume the lesson she had probably prepared the night or a week before. I waited until everyone had forgotten that they had went to recess with out me, and thats when I made my exit to the playground. I had somehow decided that since I was robbed of my recess, I would rob them of my presence during class. Without giving it a second thought, I swung on the monkey bars, and the swings. I played on the merry-go-round. I ran, and jumped in dead silence. This was new to me. I had never been on a playground where the presence of other kids didn’t exist. But still, it wasn’t about the play. It was about the fact that my teacher thought she could rob me, Teneisha Ta’shae Franklin, of having fun! Yes, my father was in the military, and yes my mother was as meanest mama I knew. Frankly, she scared the shit out of me. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to receive an ass whoppin’. I gladly accepted it, and continued to play in silence.

With the exception of my mother and father, I was the master of my universe. Despite the fact that when I was born my legs bowed so badly, I was prescribed braces to straighten them. It never deterred me. As a nine year old girl, I was fearless. I ran fast, jumped high and spoke loudly. I was confident, bold and daring. I danced, and I laughed with ease. I loved who I was, and never gave a second thought to who I would become.

Somewhere down the line—through the transition of puberty, adolescence, self-esteem, boyfriends, and womanhood—I lost myself. I was no longer that daring child I used to be. The once loud voice had been turned down almost to the point of silence. My speed had crept to a saunter and my confidence had dissipated. What had happened to me, is what I would assume happens to most people—life. But instead of moving on, it scared me enough to run, hide, and barricade myself, inside of myself. Leaving the potency of who I was trapped and unable to escape. I lost myself and lost sight of my own value. Essentially, my fight was gone, and I had died.

My state of being rested far from that which I had grown up with. I come from a family of women—at the top of the family tree were grand aunts, the HNIC’s—who had an abounding love for themselves. Dark skin, big-boned women flourished in our family—the anti-commercialism of the black woman—Gaps, gold teeth, flashy clothes, long, sharp colorful nails, coupled with slick tongues and foul language. And when they all came together they laughed with such guffaw. Ask any seven of them and they would proudly tell you, with their eyes lowered and their necks wound ready to roll, that they were the finest, sexiest beings on the planet earth. Looking at the shell of the person that I was, It was hard to believe that I somehow descended from this group of women.

Once I had lost sight of who I was, it took me too many years to get that sense of self worth back. To do that, I had to pull out boxes and boxes of shit I just didn’t need. I dug through boxes that still had grudges in them. I had a box that had that bad relationship straight out of high school, and that horrifically depressing pregnancy that lead me to have to fight single parenthood as if it were the cancer of my life. That box with anger, unforgiveness, and brick walls…that shit had to go. The sadder I became, the more these things were like anchors to my soul and in my life. So, what did I do? I followed Jay-Z’s advice. I built a bridge and I got over it. It was only after I had done so, was I able to begin to travel the road that would eventually lead me to reclaim what I had lost.

Looking for yourself is no easy feat—battles must take place inside the mind for sure. It’s like that old philosophical question: How does something as small as the mind control something as big as the body? Shit, I still don’t know the answer to that question—It’s kind of like putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. Sometimes you only have to walk a couple of feet to find the next piece, sometime you have to walk several miles, and sometimes you may never find it again. Its just gone. Thankfully, so far, I’ve found the laughter and joy she used to give me.

 

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2012 in Memoirs

 

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CEASE

My heart stays on weaping mode. I miss him, and I don’t know how to stop.

I almost told him too. If it wasn’t for pride–also known as my sanity holding on to my tailcoat–I would have.

Instead, I tell you. I place my tears in this small, empty, unknow space where my cares come to die. All my Aches bruises and pains I place in your hands.

What we had is gone. I desparately need you to take that too.

 
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Posted by on July 5, 2014 in Memoirs

 
Quote

It is a little baffling. How happiness tends to cling to some like small dogs, loyal to their master. And like magnets of the same charge, repel from others.

It is a little …

 
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Posted by on June 30, 2014 in Memoirs

 
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For Real

I would drink this song if I could.

 

 
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Posted by on June 17, 2014 in Memoirs

 
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PRESCENCE

My tears drip from these words like soaked rags. 

The range of emotions I feel fluctuate like an unsettled sea of waves.
But, the resounding––the one that pulls hardest, and causes the most pain––is sadness.
My soul recognizes that something has been taken, 
It wasn’t there before. And now, it wants it back. I want it back. 
Unbeknownst to me, I seemed to have made room for a presence. 
An idea so new and foreign, I never even saw the dent it created until it was over.
 
Briefly, I got to see what life was like to swim in joy, and freedom. 
I now know what it feels like to have a heart leak radiance,
Spill over into my veins and peek through my skin. 
 
I prayed for this moment a thousand times. 
I woke the sun with eager in my eyes. 
Like a thin layer of dust settled a top a book; presence gently blew away, years.
Replacing sadness’ tears with joy’s,
Hurt and anger fled at moments embrace,
onyx arms that snaked my waist.
Grace, 
blushed at the slow but rhythmic kiss. 
Our lips cut the fabric. Time did not exist. 
 
Presence, 
I did my best to hold on to that moment forever. 
I held it. I watched it while it slept.
But a common enemy, 
Time, the eternal death.
It is impossible for me to forgive you for continuing to count those seconds.
For dictating the movements of the sun. 
  
Now that I know what it feels like, I want it back. 
I want the love that was promised to me. 
Joy to invade my existence, command my thoughts.
Illuminate my person. 
The range of emotions I feel fluctuate like an unsettled sea of waves.
His presence was taken.
And I want it back. 
 
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Posted by on June 16, 2014 in Memoirs

 
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Enlightenment In Flight

There it goes. 
A piece of history, in flight. 
There goes the familiarity of her essence, 
her smile, her laugh, her voice. 
There goes the predictable demeanor 
faded with time and forgotten by the mind. 
There it goes.
Young gal, There it goes can’t you see it?
Floating through time and space. 
The answers to your puzzling questions.
The knowledge which will plug the river of tears you cry.
There too goes the wind that stir and cause the leaves to rustle
harsh realities sweetened with honey-filled words, 
beautiful thoughts, brought and then lost, 
understanding, forgiveness, joy and love
wrapped up and trapped in human form. 
Enlightenment, practicing the very thing she was made for,
freedom. ~TF
 
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Posted by on May 28, 2014 in Creative Writing

 
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I Was Wrong

I was in love.

It was for real,

this time

I thought, after all these years,

happiness finally decided pay attention.

How lucky am I to get to feel & embraced the power of love?

To be included, I was delighted. 

I thought.

I dwelled in the dark. That was my reality.

My days and nights

Were somehow designed to be walked alone. 

It was Something I had done, or didn’t do. 

I had concluded, it was me.

I am what was wrong. 

I see now, I was always wrong. 

 
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Posted by on April 25, 2014 in Memoirs

 
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Wait For It

Wait For It

There are These periods in life ( I call them dark spots) where we lose. Our certainty has left us, and high esteem’s disappeared. The skyscraper we’ve spent so many years building, has crumbled. Most times, when the dark spots go away, I end up finding certainty in the strangest place and realize esteem was just misplaced. When the dark spots hit, crying doesn’t help. Find a bench with a nice view and wait for these things to come back to you.

 
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Posted by on February 15, 2014 in Memoirs

 

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