Personal faith in self

                       Each creative person goes through it. The crippling self doubt.  One often expects encouragement from those in the life of said person. And it really doesn’t always happen. I’m not alone there. For me it’s just a baffling thing. I am seven time published.  Four volumes of poetry,  two children’s books and a novella. Still there are days when I wonder if my writing is any good. And since my family doesn’t seem to be proud of me and what I have done… it seems to wear on my confidence in what I do.
                              Then my bestie, my sister I chose, who is also a writer asked for my help. It doesn’t seem like much to a outsider I am sure… but for me this was huge. It felt like validation of my writing.  My writing is such a big part of who I am… this felt like I was being accepted.  So it got me thinking.  Why does my family,  my blood,  not accept what I do? Really the only thing I can think of is that to them,  since I have always been a writer, it is simply nothing new. So perhaps I am going to have to accept the idea that those who are not showing pride in me aren’t doing it in cruelty. Perhaps it is in ignorance.
                So perhaps I should not expect the world to have faith in me, and be thankful when it does.  Instead I should have faith in me.

Breaking The Legacy Of Silence

Kim D. Bailey

I had a bad experience tonight but I decided to write about it. Others no longer deserve my power or my silence. I will speak against all things that are hurtful and abusive whether they like it or not. This is self-care. This is power. This is living. This is love.

So I wrote this:

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Day 26


Things I would say to an ex. Honestly it depends upon the ex. There are always good reasons why they are ex’s. Still usually… it’s hello,  how have you been?  I see no reason not to be polite. The only reason not to would be if they hurt me…and since I have moved on…the hurt must not have been as bad as it felt then.

Sometimes I write poetry not meant for the Wip

            Occasionally on my personal Facebook page I will post a good night that is a small poem….something not truly long enough in my opinion for inclusion in a poetry volume. 
                 This is last night’s.
Well today was hell.
The night as well.
Time for me
To let life be.
Rest my head
In my bed.

Time to wish for all the best
And pass it to all of you,
Nothing else but sweet dreams
And gentle rest,
Till the morrow comes.

Day 25


Hmmm weird traits. I am not sure I have any.  Weird personality quirks and weird idioms,  perhaps.  But honestly I see there being nothing about myself that is truly weird.  I am unique.  Weird implies that there might be something wrong with any of my traits.  Nope. Unique.