White Dove
White Dove by Gabrielle Tigner
20 days after the New Year
I was asked “ Who are you?” Unfortunately, the answers terrified me. However, when I reminisce on my past, I surprise myself with more questions.
How does this teenage girl live with the obstacles she has?
I don’t understand .I don’t understand the psyche wage that’s battered because of things I cannot control.
Life-it’s a hell hole!
I’ve lost the two people that I need ,BEFORE the age of 18.I’ve encountered judges for fault and fall .I even lost partial trust in my only sister , because she surprised me with a trip to a place
many, don’t get out of.
I felt imprisoned without consideration, from them not knowing I was chosen.
Chosen.
My life was planned out by a “God” before me . A spu·ri·ous spirit that could save , but yet destroy me. I could only look into the mirror to see my past . Hidden secrets, dirty laundry , skeletons and rats.
So instead of punching a hole through my brain, I punched a hole through the wall to alleviate the pain. I am the hole in the wall, with missing pieces of brackets painted over to reduce the pain.The cold paint that covers up my frown is only artificial . I haven’t had a real smile since before I said “I’ll always miss you.” Tried hitting different things but that became an issue.A misuse.
The hate & the anger I’ve obtained overpowers the good memories. My life is like a dreadful snail when it touches crystals. I’m more than tampered. I’m lightly salted. I’m a potato chip with a can cover mixed with tacky colors and looks brown .There’s nothing pleasing about being lightly salted , because I’m tainted with with a dysfunctional family that doesn’t wash away with a dove.
“But that bird smiles, laughs, it’s just like us.” They tell me these lies to increase my trust.
But this bird has experienced hell before the heavens, a storm before the sun …. And plenty of cries before it dies.
My conclusion is a question. The only answer I have to them.
What is life?Just an imaginary condition.
I’ve seen wild fires and burning souls. I’ve seen a man change to one who doesn't even know that,
This dove! Is not just another bird in the sky.
“ It could’ve been worse.” I should’ve died.
My mom didn’t deserve to lose her life over me. I may have gave stems to help her cancer, but since I couldn’t save her , I’ve became the forsaken. . Why did she sacrifice it for me? I wasn’t even 10. I wasn’t even three.
“This time won’t you save me. Baby I can feel myself giving up.” Her last words were blurred up. But just , Why?
No wonder Marilyn, James, Michael and Whitney took a drug with no shame to tame the white wings just to be an Angel that sings.
I’m compared the greats who’ve already passed by .Honestly, I wouldn’t mind the horrendous fight.
Who am I to tell. I only know the person that they tell me.I am. I am the Angel that Sings with broken wings. I am the child in a new, but not my family. I speak the verse thats created in front me. I take the long lonely walks that Martin Luther sings.
My only way into heaven is by having a golden token. Who am I that has spoken? I’m on that lonely road where the dirt flies up with the smoke , yeah.
Just a particle of 7 billion
My one question to you is, Did he really mean?Did he mean to cause chronic sickness.
But I’ll be darn if I had to reap it.
It’s not a secret.