Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Instrument of Warfare: Maturity

I spent a lot of time taking breaks. Being upset at things that I had done, not wanting to accept that in those consequences there were things that I needed to "see." 
I am anger. I am pain. But, I am also Love. 
I believe that scars can be used as fuel to skyrocket us to the next level of Greatness. That sometimes this next level is subtle. It does not need an introduction. It does not need a immaculate parade. 

With wavy stick figure balloon men and princesses that invitingly waving at the children to coax them in a fantasy world of "its all right, because I'm pretty." When reality deems it otherwise. 
I am not afraid of death. Yet, the memories of my death can only haunt me if I choose to stay in them. Happy memories were my death. But, I escaped in the shadows. In the blackness of my heart. 

Accountability means that you are held responsible for whatever instrument of power that you are given or whatever choices that you have made in relation to that power. I begged God to take my heart out. So, I could feel nothing. Become an instrument of war and nothing else. And in me becoming and instrument of "war" God reminded me that, there doesn't need to be a fight.  That not all men were out to destroy me. 

Brutalize and torment my existence with their half ass promises of safety and dedication. When men look at me, I give them a wicked smile. And in that smile it tells them that they don't "want it." Because I'm a mission to "fight" Tango with the Lion of Judah, is what I was trying to warn the members of that community. A male in particular being so adamant that he could "handle me." But, it was I that saw his tears, his failure and his mistakes. It was I, that watched him drown in his own failure. And that was half of the other memory that not only reminded me that I am part human but also of why death was imperative. 

But in the darkness, I was re-introduce to an old friend that I did not want the responsibility of caring for: Maturity.