Vacant

There are no flowers here
A soft scent of empowerment
Nonviolent hope built up over the years
What will they say about us?
When we won the ability to be heard, speak out for women
Steps were taken to liberate us from the box
Picture perfect wives in starched aprons serving men in business suits unable to vote.
Doesn’t it scare you, What they, want to bring back?
Push passion outward! Maybe sign a few of those petitions you say are worthless
You’ve told me, they don’t mean a thing
Well, I’ve seen change
And
It’s coming again
The current
Packaging with tight ribbons
Is that all we are?
Don’t take for granted those who struggled so we could be liberated
To work, dream, become journalists, independent home owners or run a business
Stand up even if all you do is sign a paper or make a phone call.
It does matter.
Angela K. Crandall
©3/13/17

What’s within

“And so I built walls because you choose to stick them up. I began to create my own. I’d rather stay in a world I shaped, than the one you doomed. My cage of words, creating stories. Can you take them from my head, as you took my heart from my soul? Each and every word is an action typed within breaths leaked from the pulse I continue to allow to beat. The only repercussion would be I could no longer tell my story. It’s why I go on. It’s my story. It’s all I have. I will not allow anyone else to hold the pen. At times for this, I suffer, we suffer, creating our worlds unlike any other. Now, I should sleep within. Again tomorrow I begin again. Faults, scars, alibis, misspelled words, and punctuation.”

-Angela K. Crandall©8/7/16 (Sweet dreams.)

True colors bleed.

The story becomes the writer’s world and the characters merge, becoming her friends. It is there that she is fully herself and accepted. Outside, she smiles, plays the game of the world, if not bitter, and lashes out at those who have deserted her. They corrupt her with the idea that all she yearns for is sympathy. When what she desires is for those to bend for her as she did them.

 ~Angela K. Crandall~

©12/31/15

Only Me…

“I’ve been looking for one person who understands where I come from searching for so long I think I’ve lost my soul in the dust others have created. I’m scouring it, running my fingers through it, trying to find this one person who gets what it’s like to be stuck, in the middle, demanding both sides. Someone who cannot accept that they’re only allowed to fulfill half of who they are due to society’s standards. Am I the only one? So far it seems so. No door has remained open.”
by
Angela K. Crandall
©12/27/15

Thankful in-spite of myself

I am always thankful for what I have

Some days the sunshine hides behind the clouds

And I don’t see the light hidden within

My emotions play havoc with what people, really think of me

And I am judged, often for needing to be reminded I am loved

This, is what depression and loneliness, look like

It’s not, about you, it’s about us

Inside our own skin, needing reassurance

That you remember

As I try to remember

That the sun will return

The rain will disappear

And again, there will be light to replace the darkness.

By

Angela K. Crandall

©11/11/15