Writing Was My First Love

I have been thinking a lot lately, depression kicking your butt for a day or two will do that. I am coming around though, feeling more like me, I am thankful for that. I chatted over coffee with my mom this morning before work, one of my favorite things to do, I swear that women is the Lorelai to my Rory *A Gilmore Girl reference in case you were like  the WHO to her WHAT?! long story short it is  tv series about mother daughter shenanigans with lots of coffee and sarcastic banter, I swear that show was written about us. *For real if you knew us you'd agree *

After our chit chat I realized how far I have come this has been a two year journey and things are different, for the better and I need to remember that. *Note to self Jena ...Remeber that!*

After I left home I kept thinking and for whatever reason old writings came to mind, you see as the title of this blog suggest Writing was indeed my first love. I had this idea that I would write a book one day... who knows maybe I will. All ambitious author aspirations aside I really just, as Frida states in the quote below I wrote what I knew... I wrote about Me, my feelings and things I went through.

“ I am my own muse. The subject I know best. The subject I want to better ”

Here are some of those writings... enjoy! well I hope you enjoy... con todo amor - Jena

Beautiful Not Broken

So many before had struck her heart and left her there to starve

She was pierced with their promise of love for her

 But they only left…

Left another mark

Another puncture

Soon there was barely reminisce of the girl she once knew

She waited so hopeful to be whole

And came to the conclusion that maybe she was only meant to be hopeless

withered with holes

She hid from the world ashamed by her broken being

Until he came and stared at her

He couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing

Light spilled so sweetly from her scars

She looked to him like the heavens

As stars’ shine light through the dark

her essence allured his very heart

She mirrored a paper lantern

just as precious, just as fragile

she saw damaged, she saw regret

he saw her kissed with eyelets

illuminating the room she hid in

her radiance brought comfort to him

Before she could explain to him why she was so tattered

Before a word of hers was spoken

He marveled at her again

And said “beautiful not broken” -MM

Beautiful Mosaic

She had glue in one hand and some string

With the intention of mending because she had been ripped at the seems

Because life is indifferent and it tends to be mean

And she was no longer the girl who

Once hope and once dreamed

So she grabbed the glue and the shattered pieces

And thought to herself…

This is me

And she worked and she tried to mend

But the pieces still cut with their jagged ends

But she was obsessed she with fixing within what had been broken

Determined to get back what life had stolen

And through piecing the broken bits she had learned to regret

She stepped back

And marveled in the beautiful Mosaic she had created with those pieces in tack

- MM