Male egos-family links…

I lost my spark when the match wouldn’t light. I tried to use my flashlight so that I could see the paper beneath my pen, but the battery was dead. So instead tears fell upon that paper, the words never came like the poetry lost in my phone when reset. My heart erased. There is nothing but numbness where passion was, and digging deep, I still can’t find the words to complete what I had felt. My stories go on, but even the sound of waves don’t bring me elaborate details of analytical thoughts. I clean, I sing, I try to dance, and this world has me spent on who I am — wasted on the fact that they force you to ride the merry go round stealing what was ours in the first place. Our spirits, in it freedom, when we were told in this life we could be anyone and anything given you worked at it. All lies alibi’s to deceive us into believing we mattered. And I used to think I did before people I loved, naysayers forced themselves into my mind, breaking my backbone, causing me to pray to a man above, a man! For it is the man who makes it impossible for the women to break free! And there is nothing our society has done to make it easy to wriggle out of this perpetual circle they have us entrapped in! And when we choose to rebel in the slightest way they make sure we know we’ve gone astray.

Angela K. Crandall ©9/11/19

Advertisements

Your heart

Have you surrendered?
Did you give them everything?
How far did you go?

Was she a friend, who is he?
And I hear it, from afar, as I sip my tea.
Turning back to my book trying to ignore them.
I find my napkin randomly ripping it apart,
Then consider talking to them,
Telling them all I know.
That this love shall pass.
And if it doesn’t well
That’s luck
Or growth;
Whatever perspective I suppose you see.
Me, it was poison I drank.
But it was friendship, not a lover.
Manipulated to think that maybe I could have what once existed.
Then Wham! It seems to always happen,
Oh, not always
But once
And I don’t expect it again or ever.
I get up to move as they discuss where to eat.
I have my other half
That is the argument I’m given.
But there are a few stragglers around my heart.
Ones who see me, the rainbow
Cherish the bright colors.
It feels though only one isn’t fading
And you can’t rely on one person
Smoother them
No
So I take each acquaintance and smile.
Push- myself to believe
That every life I touch counts
And close friends are limited,
Once we’re true to ourselves
And that’s
Just the consequence, of not being fake.

Angela K. Crandall

©9/14/18

Equality for All

The only sanctuary that exists is in your own mind.
This world is blind
It doesn’t know what unconditional love is
What it knows is fear, hate, and how to take away
What was never theirs,
Because
It says
‘And liberty and justice for all.’
Most of you make me want to die
But I know I have to keep fighting
For those that need me.
I stand with the LGBT community.
~Angela K. Crandall~
©7/27/17

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