Wednesday, January 12, 2011

My Lullaby (By my daughter Arial)

Who will I be when I get free? Can no one see me?
I walk, wander through my life. Using substance to escape the strife 
That came from my choice. When I forgot I had a voice.
And all that came hence- Now called my existence 
Who will I be when I get free? I don’t want you to help me.
The ‘me’ that was, is lost. The me that is, is lost 
What part of me am I? I don’t know- when I fly.
But I like to fly. I like to feel so high.  
But when I fall...I fall-landing in a stall
No one there but me Even if me is plenty 
I find someone fun. With him I like to run.
He will take me flying, But I hide tears I’m crying. 
So I fly to escape it- Going higher, just a bit
Using substance to escape the strife The fearful strife now my life 
Who will I be when I get free? He does not see me.
Who truly am I? ...That was my lullaby.
I land in my stall. Higher I go- farther I must fall.
(But I like to fly!) ...Even if two years have now gone by.
I kill a life- new life. I fly to escape that guilt and strife.
My heart is freshly tearing. Just look at what I’m wearing!
This is not me! Not who I want to be!
But who am I? That was my lullaby. 
I fall back to my same stall. The four walls, my stall,
(But I like to fly!) No matter the three years now gone by 
Who will I be when I get free? Who is this person I now see?
And who am I? ...My lullaby. 
The sky is too far up. So now I use a cup.
I fill it full. I feel its pull.
I do not want to fly now. The sky is just too high now.
(I like to float.) No matter I can’t afford a coat. 
But when I float... I am pulled from my boat.
I am pulled, so far, far down. Then I drown. 
I am alone. No place to call home.
If I fly- fall to a stall. If I float- drown too deep to call. 
There is no strife. I have no life.
I want to die. Ending my silent cry
The cry I cry Watching the year crawl by
I do not fly- no longer float (Now I smoke!) 
The peace I get...Making it easy to forget
When I floated and flew But it is over- now I knew 
I knew all I’d done. What once seen as fun
My silent cry, my silence Nothing makes the difference 
Who will I be when I get free? Who is me, where is she?
Who am I? That was my lullaby. 
I fall, drown, and choke Not to mention I’m broke.
No friends, no cash Nothing that will last 
I am alone. I cry. No one is allowed to hear my cry.
Avoiding the eyes of passers by They don’t want to see me cry  
It is dark now...Can’t cry- not allowed.
I cannot fly- no money for coke. Or float or smoke...
She is different Why does she look bent?
Oh, I can see. That poor girl is me
Who am I? Who can now see me?
...To hear my cry? That was my lullaby.
I don’t want to fly, float, or smoke. No coke, cups, and I don’t want to choke.
I want help. I need help. But who can hear my cry? I am tired of my lullaby.
But who will hear? I don’t let anyone near... 
Who will I be once free? I want to see a new me.
Someone to hear me cry To change my lullaby 
But I can’t do it, so I ask. “You don’t want your flask?”
...But even they can’t help me. Sometimes I agree that I am crazy. 
I know I can get free! ...If someone would just see me.
So I listen to my same lullaby, Hating the six years gone by 
Who will ever see me and how? “Child, I can see you now” 
I know what I heard- No matter how absurd
No one else could hear me cry No one else could stop my lullaby 
I had to ask for needed aid. He let me know my debt is paid.
He heard me cry that night Seen my whole plight 
I read I plead I see...I see me. I am HE. He loves me.
I am not alone. He is my home 
I fly with Him. I drown in Him.
Choking on His air Reminded He is there. 
He can see me. He loves me.
He knows ‘who am I’ That is my new lullaby. 
Who will I be when I get free? Depends... I am free from me.
In Him I’m alive, For Him I strive He is my new high With Him I love to fly.
This is BLISS! Hello, my name is...

1 comment:

  1. My daughter Arial gained insight from the hurting & self-harming youth that she sought out on a webpage called 'TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS'' affectionately known as TWLOHA, She has seen life through their hurting eyes and being a writer has felt as though she's experienced some of their shared pain. It prompted her to show them the Love of God the only way you she knew how by the use of social media and the creation of her blog Lions of God to let them know they are not alone nor forgotten or un= important. Several of these kids are suicidal and self-harm is an outlet they've chosen to relieve pain of teen years. May she forever be a light in this dark world & seek out the lost & hurting with His Light. What a warrior.