po·et·ry…

Today..
I encourage you
to bravely,
peel back,
each layer,
revealing
the deep roots
of secrets that
have been gracefully
hidden.

In this place,
is where YOU have
remained concealed
beneath the pain
of your untold stories.

Surrender…

and allow
Gods love
and grace
to heal this
sacred space
in which you’ve
kept sealed.

– denise marie

Writing Poetry is truly one of my passions, it feels amazing to release words that at times have been hidden beneath insecurities, allowing my creativity to flow, sure does bring me joy.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved writing, reading and listening to poetry. It was a common occurrence to see me with a pen and pad of paper jotting down my thoughts and eagerly reading them to my Mom. Looking through boxes in the storage closet, it’s fun to find journals filled with poems I’ve written as a child or teen. Recently I was looking through my yearbooks from high school and to my surprise (1987 was a long time ago.. lol! I had forgotten about this) I saw a poem I had written my Senior year in the yearbook.

Maya Angelou is one of my favorite’s, I have several of her books. This portrait of her, sits near my keyboard.

Maya Angelou has always been an inspiration and I hope to one day publish my own book of poetry.

“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36

The Promise of Restoration..

The tightening of my chest causes me to pray for help. I grab ahold of the white and red chamber that carries the medication that brings me instant relief. I inhale the mist, hold my breath and count down…5..4..3..2..1..exhale..Now I can breathe freely.

I have lived the last 39 of my almost 43 years of my life as an asthmatic. I recently had a conversation with my Mom and asked her at what age did I begin having asthma attacks? She said that at 4 years old, I would be rushed to the emergency room, several times a week due to asthma attacks. She also stated that not only did I have asthma attacks, but I also stopped eating. She would have to leave snacks around the house, hoping that if I became hungry enough, I would eat.

For many of years, I have had flashbacks to the time that I was in preschool. I would see a mat on the floor, and a thin, off white blanket on top of the mat. When it was naptime, the teachers had every student lay on their mat, but we were required to remove our clothing. We were only allowed to keep on our undergarments. I don’t remember much else from the days of attending that preschool. My mom said that she withdrew me from the school, because she “had a bad feeling”, she called it a “Mother’s intuition”.

In 1973, I believe that is when I first encountered childhood sexual molestation. The manifestation of symptoms, were clearly the sign of a child who had been abused.

The Webster’s dictionary defines, Restoration as the following:

The return of something to the condition it was in before it was changed”.

As I continue on my journey of healing, I know that I will face the darkest times of my past, I will bravely take on the armour of God that He promises will be my protection. I hold onto the Hope and Expectation of the things to come….MY complete Restoration of the Return to the Condition of What I WAS BEFORE I was changed by the hands of an abuser.

Denise Boyd Copyright ©