Did You Ever Just Wonder (Originally written 03/2015. Edited 02/20/2023)

    I've been thinking lately about my marriage, the healing route I took, and how Christ has played a part in all of that. When I was with Marshal it was a no brainer that church would be attended, our covenants kept, and our home centered upon Christ. It was, at least, second nature to me. 

    I wish I could have seen that earlier in our courtship, because then I would have seen that we wanted two very different things out of life, marriage, family and eternity. Something I always told myself was that I would never be one of those Jaded divorced women who go make rash decisions, or stop progressing forward inside the church. I wanted to stay strong, faithful and encourage others that life can be happy and healthy when you stay close to the Savior. 

    well, what happens when you start to doubt everything that you have tried so hard for? What happens when you are sitting inside of one of Gods biggest natural wonders, The Grand Canyon, looking up into the un-countable stars, and you forget why you had a testimony or why it meant anything to you. I have recently experienced this, meditating inside the Grand Canyon, and staring into the un-countable stars. 

    I can also say that it terrified me. My whole life I have been taught that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true, that Joseph Smith was indeed the Prophet who restored the True Church onto the earth again, that the savior loves me, that he died for me and that I can return to live with him again someday. 

    Something I was not taught about, however, is what to do when the testimony that you grew up developing just up and disappears.

Brave Hunter, Written by: A.R.P

Brave, Brave Hunter, Why have you come?

Alluring masterpiece, you slither into my mind

and alter my bodies chemistry. 

Stunned by your boundaries,

slayed by your cunning. 

I feel you, from miles apart-

I know you have come to command my mind.

The seduction of my will.

What's this, a gift?

A noble commitment; A truth told.

Time altered for eternity;

Fur in hand, Brave Warrior, you wrap me in 

your love. Embracing every piece of us

with power-inducing peace.

May we all find our protector this February.

May we all see each other. May we all find 

a circle of protection, that our collective 

energy will be raised; A society

enlightened. 

May all our dreams come true.

-A

Blank Canvas, Written by: Aimee R. P.

Blank, still, silent

Where do you lead?

I see before me

                  Something that could be

A tangling of vivacious sorrow

                   A clump of magical joy 

                                   A mountain of possibilities un-folding before my third eye.

A glorious emotion holds it deep under the water.

I create Life.

I take life.

And sometimes

                                 They take it.

        -A

Heart on My Sleeve, Witten by: Aimee R. P.

I take the painting out of the bag, and hang it back on the wall of my kitchen. The note I tuck into my journal for safe keeping, a memory I will now keep for myself. 

Im done carrying around the sparkly gift bag in hopes that you will appear in my life as quickly as you did the first time.                          Im finished solo building our one-sided fantasy.

Eyes wide shut you stood against the bar with a silence that clung to my bones, 

                                                                         a stare that made me ache to know you.

The colors that lit you burned in my memory. The shape of you effortlessly tormenting me.

Out of the blue my phone would ring,              

                                 It can't be that they are thinking of me?

Time spent together slowed to a small space between breaths,

                                                                                            A space between nothing,

                                                                                                       and everything.

Forgetting personal oaths of loyalty to self, 

                                                                    Trekking mountains to make time for you.

Fooling myself into wishing.

                                  Opening myself up to pain, 

                                                                          To love,

                                                                                    To art.                                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                             I painted,

I passionately played,         I worked to heal myself,        trusting that you were doing the same.

I misunderstood,           I stumbled,                        I failed,                 I tried,       I grew.

I re-learned a magic about myself. A magic that exists to expand on my shape, 

my color, and my fierce qualities. 

                                                                   I learned something about you too.

You are quiet,                 deeply passionate about your life dreams and goals.

                  unapologetic,                   sometimes warm,          mostly cold, and silent.

It's the cold and silent I will never find happiness with. 

It's the rent you do not pay to live inside my head. 

The lack of value you bring to my life.

It's time after time of submitting my energy, 

thoughts, and dreams to an unfolding vision of maybes; 

                                                            subtlety that would never solidify. 

The gift of value I had intended for you, a continuation to build the hope of us, Now,

                                                                                                       Reserved for me.

                                                                                                       Loyalty to me.

I truly wish you, and her, nothing but the best. 

Sincerely,

    Someone worthy of being more than someone else's In-between,

                                                                                                                       -À

Am I Awake?, An Original Poem by: Aimee R. P.

An unconscious divide between dreaming 

and reality. Curled up in my mind,

A tiny, frail minded version of myself

                                  Looking to rebuild.

What does it mean to be awake?

Consciously dreaming

A time and space that is my own.

 

Will I wake up?

have I been asleep too long: 

                              Dipping, zoning, diving

Plummeting to my death?

How does one measure awake?

Is it measurable?

Does it stand on its own

Firm as a tree.

Subconscious tells me yes,

conscious mind says no,

                            Too much for today.

Will I truly count myself awake among the heavens?

Floating through purple cosmic space clouds

And singing on the moon?

Perhaps I will bound from one space rock

to the next playing violin

                                              Loud enough

For earth to wake up too.

They say, 'you are awake.'

I doubt their words.

They say, 'rest well, I love you.'

This makes my insides scream.

How does one measure love,

If one cannot measure awake?

Birth; Trauma.

Child's play; Trauma.

Sleep; Trauma.

You are now accountable; Trauma.

You are old enough to do that on your own

                                                  Trauma.

It's all in your head; Trauma.

Don't talk about this to anyone; Trauma.

You tempted him; Trauma.

Marriage is the way; Trauma.

I love you; Trauma.

Prostitution built this nation; Trauma.

Slavery built this nation; Trauma.

Normalized trafficking; Trauma.

I did not consent; Trauma.

Your ideas are mine; Trauma.

I can no longer claim two white veils.

Third times the charm used up in infancy,

                      He suffered too; Trauma.

Let's see if we can make her scream,

                               Cry, or rage; Trauma.

It's just the way it is; Trauma.

Do you really want me to stop; Trauma.

Am I fully awake?

How does one know

Since sleep has predominated the

battlefield?

Awake is foreign

Powerful,

The sun as it pushes past the mountain

Declaring a new day.

Awake is lonely.

Resigned to walk the path I set for myself

before birth.

I can only blame myself.

Society does not allow for blame to fall on 

him, them or other.

Only her. 

You chose this; Trauma

You chose our family; Trauma

You chose to be hit; Trauma

You chose to get married; Trauma

You chose to leave; Strength

You chose to rebuild; Strength

You chose to try again; Strength

You chose to forgive; Strength

You chose to love yourself; Strength

You chose to find yourself; Strength

You chose to wake up; Strength

You chose to wake up;

                                         Power.

-A

                        

                                                                           

Enchenté, Je M'appelle Aimee et voici mon cœur

Poetry to quiet the long held silence. I am prepared to revisit my blog and give it love this February 2023 and beyond. 

Enchenté, Je M'appelle Aimee et voici mon cœur:

Did You Not See the Writing on the Wall? (An original poem by Aimee R. P.)

Heavy are the eyelids 
Filled with longing 

Answers come in waves

Loneliness the daily song

Repetitive the questions

Insensitive replies

Isolated

Where do we come from?

Why are we here?

To watch; Silent, to help the screaming misogyny.

Stepping on each other to win the crown. 

When will you see the pain in our eyes has 

nothing to do with winning and everything to do with witnessing?

I witness you

You witness me

We are seen.

They drew a harsh line that made your insides boil and your dreams turn to ash. 

So you lied, sweeping your story into the shadows. 

"This world isn't ready for you yet."

You prayed on your knees for redemption

From the underground prison 

You bought into.

Only to find that the savior you bet on ran away with your pride,

and left you to answer for His crimes. 

When they mentioned that in the scriptures

Did you not see the writing on the wall?

When they stole the creation power inside your soul,

Calling it theirs under, 'finders keepers.'

Did you crawl under a rock and let them creatively rape you?

No.

You said no by walking away.

You said no by taking baths, breathing, and holding yourself close.

You said no by choosing the path least traveled by.

You said no by loving yourself first. 

Proud of you little one. 

-A