While other woman wombs swelled with a life they knew forever love would become. I knew eventually, your love I would be denied and I cried.

I loved you anyway.

While other woman hugged, kissed and watched their child play. I always felt I had to keep some of myself away and save you from exposure from my decay.

I loved you anyway.

I knew the secret. I was nothing and you were perfection. I was happy just to be part of your conception. Pretending to be worthy of anything more was just a deception I foolishly believed for moments myself as I endeavored to make you believe awhile.

I loved you anyway.

At times beasts which could harm you, more than I, came to our door. I fought them with the little power I possessed. I hurt when you declared I was the beast and it was my claws you wanted to ignore.

I loved you anyway.

Now, you have gone on your way. You have your wounds from my fails as a Mother. But from the distance you keep me at you are a sight to behold. You have pride in yourself and know you deserved more than what you got in life…and you are right.

I loved you anyway,



A Mother’s Dream

my dream finally came true

true tale i tell to you tonight

tonight my baby feared lost

lost to me forever was found

found my reason for living again

again there is hope

hope to start over

over the past

past the hurt

hurt that was caused by me

me, myself, and i

i can breathe easy

easy my breaths

breaths given to me anew by GOD

GOD, aware of my heart’s torment

torment of my own making

making me cry each night

night after night he listened

listened to my pain

pain he had mercy

mercy is what he gave

gave by a power held only by THE MOST HIGH

THE MOST HIGH made my dream finally come true

true tale i tell to you tonight

tonight my baby feared lost

lost to me forever was found

found my reason for living again

again there is hope


Just by chance?

A fellow blogger who posted “I LOVE YOU” to all his readers. He also expressed that his childhood lessons never included how to express his love in ways that were healthy like verbally and hugging. To prove his sincerity he revealed his real name. This is my response as it was sent with no spell check or editing. 

I came by to pay you a visit and I discovered THIS. Some would call THIS a post. Doing so, would not be technically incorrect. However, giving THIS any one single name would be horribly wrong in so many ways. THIS is your heart. THIS is your pain. THIS is your wish. THIS is your confession. THIS is your end. THIS is your start. THIS is your past. THIS is our future. THIS is your connection. THIS is even more than you and I can mention.

I know THIS was hard to give the world. For that reason, I want to show you that the world that your fear will treat you the same as the man who had the title of Father in your life; is actually very loving if you are aware of its acts of tender care. While it would be easy to just dismiss the meeting of us as chance. Perhaps it is. But my desire to believe that all the forces of evil I have encountered in my life must have a force in place to balance it out makes me believe us meeting was not just chance. I will give some evidence to support my belief.

I started my very first blog just a little over a month ago. By chance, I came across a post the_Lunatic made that impressed me so much I introduced myself. By chance, she told me the reason for her blog was to be honest with herself and the world so she could hopefully get some power over her demons. By chance, I share her mission. By chance, the good impression she made on me made me to read her blog regular when most of the times I just allow the reader decide which blog will get my attention. By chance, I came across you through her blog. By chance, I decided to check out what you offered. By chance, I loved what I saw. By chance, On May 5th I posted the following on Facebook, “Billie Ann Howell-Zahir – One of the saddest things I ever had to admit to another person was the sad fact I did not know how to hug. Sure, I knew the mechanics of the process but my insecurities and fears made the act more painful than enjoyable. Recently, I’ve practiced more while letting go of my fears and insecurities. Now….I wonder how I survived without them. :) By chance, you posted this on May 7th. By chance, today one of my followers told me they found you through me and was highly impressed. By chance, I decided to check in with you. By chance, I found THIS. By chance, while so many others shared pain similar to yours as a child, it is me who KNOWS the shame and burden not knowing how to be hugged and hug. By chance, I know from experience the constant torture I endure being a person who is so full of love for others it often overflows and looks silly yet I fear hugs still despite the efforts I made to embrace the act of hugging.

I might be wrong…but what are the chances of all these chances happening to put me in place to write this to you in hopes to comfort?

Thank you so much for offering THIS. THIS gives you more of an identity than any name given or chosen could. But to keep things easy…I will call you any name you feel is best.

LOVE from me to you….

You Are Missed (Monody)

He was the toughest SOB that I ever knew.

Every time, before, death knocked on his door,

he knocked the Grim Reaper on the floor.

Sadly, this time, the hooded one was the victor.

This was the man who lived through a blazing inferno,

being in the line of fire during the Korean War,

and fell from an iron tower.

Yet, as tough as he was, with me he was always tender.

I never, called him Dad…yet he was the best Dad I ever had.

When the time came for him to go cause the pain was too much I cried.

But, just like he did, I did what I had to and told them to turn off the machines.

I feel no guilt for being the one gifted with the right to end his pain.

Mother’s Day 2013

As of a few moments ago, I hit a Mommy all time low.

I asked a girl, who is about my daughter’s age, to be my pretend daughter this year.

How sad is that?

This is not literary trickery,

this is my real life.

I know it’s something unheard of

to have a child who wants nothing to do with you…

but that is the reality that rips out my heart every day

and this Mother’s Day

will slam it to the ground and stomp all the blood out.

So, in reality,

my pathetic request of a young lady

who does not despise me and who,

I honestly believe,

believes I have some worth…

is an attempt to save my life.

I know one day

Baby of mine

will allow me

back into her life.

My only goal…

is to live and see that day.

That will be the day

I will be resurrected

no longer be this shell of a woman

you now see before you.


Born a beggar with hand held out.

“Pardon me sir, can you spare a hug?”

“Excuse me lady, do you have an extra kiss?”

Food, shelter and clothing
Were panhandling earnings. However, yearnings were for so much more.

Desire was great to be that one gift in a person’s life

that made them think THEY were not worthy

to be in possession

of someone

full of light fresh from HEAVEN.

This is the birthright this beggar was denied.

So here I am….a beggar with hand held out.

Mother’s RIng

After being reminded of our Mother’s birthday,

I remembered the Mother’s ring she was given by us all

on some occasion I do not recall.

I do not know what her feelings


or are

about that ring

but I do know mine.

I remember growing up

being amazed

how all the stones were arranged

in a way that would make anyone think each stone,

right to left,

were not placed in order of birth.

September’s sapphires placed at either end.

The first was a son.

The last was a son.

Both turned out to be the daughter’s emotional rocks.

Always looking at the sensibility of living in a family unit

and enjoying

not having the emotional outbursts

that rocked the boat of our clan.

They have learned

if they walked away long enough…

all would be well when they returned.

Next to sapphires is the garnets.

Eldest daughter

Youngest daughter

Both share the same dirty brown stone,

 loud laughs everyone enjoys hearing…

and little else.

The eldest found her path in life early and never thought to stray.

The youngest path is a wondering one

she has no want to find ”the path” but explore them all.

Both believe paths are ”right”

and never see eye to eye.

Both blind to their similarity

of freely giving bits of wisdom

out of love.

In the middle of the ring

 two stones that have no match.

Growing up,

I felt sad

about their aloneness.

Only after getting older,

and learning who the people were

did I see the connection

between the stones

and the persons.

The Diamond is rare

holds great value.

Worth of the pale stone

risks being forgotten

when surrounded by all the color.

This person,

like the diamond,

stands out

catching fire in the light.

She draws eyes

to the beauty of the stones

yet refuses to be outshone by them.

The lone emerald

the remaining daughter

just like in the ring

brings a sense of peace

and purity

to the collection.

Both beautiful enough to stand alone

but opts to bring he gifts to all.

I loved that ring as a child.

The ring is how

I knew my older brothers and sisters.

I hope Mom passes it on to me.

As long as that ring has us all in a row together,

I have hope

someday,we can do the same.

Free from past baggage

and learn to appreciate the beauty of each other.

Much love to them all

from this

dirty red


Not a poem just some free writing that will lead up to one with time. :)

I once got lost in the town I lived in.

It was the middle of the night not another car in sight.

Everything looked familiar yet strange.

Right when I ran out of gas and I laid my head on the wheel wondering if I would ever be found….my step-dad Ray knocked on the window.

To this day he has been the only man who missed me when I was gone enough to go that extra mile to find me.

That is a story I need to tell.

He Let Her Dance

A girl,
denied her youth,
steals a moment.
Rain falling
Sun shining
Puddles forming
Believed her new umbrella
would be her only witness
as she danced without worry
just for an instant.
She finally felt the joy
of not trying to be perfect.
Shoes wet
Movements clumsy
Umbrella twirling
Her treasured moment
was shattered in an instant.
A man she spied
who was not her Father
yet claimed he loved her Mother.
All efforts to be perfect…gone.
She was caught
being perfectly imperfect.
Her dismay turned to delight.
Eyes did not belittle
Voice did not raise
Mouth did not frown
Her heavy heart lifted.
She felt tiny seed of worth planted
and vowed to love him forever
in an instant.

A Mother’s Confession

Time for mommy to come clean…and reveal her innermost thoughts.

They are not pretty

Voices in my head chant, “Shame! Shame! Shame!”

Beats of my heart thump,
“Let it out! Let it out!”

First, let me be blunt…I did not want the responsibility of being a Mom

Despite what the voices in my head say, I am not stupid…

Growing up, I was not given the opportunity to learn by example


How could I love the creation of someone I hated?

I planned on spending my life finding a HERO who was willing to take on this ZERO

Afterall, I did not know what was missing….

As a child, I always did as instructed…

I was to watch the world around me…

Active participation was forbidden!

I always delivered the lines I was given…I was dumb, I was lazy, I was thoughtless, I was dirty….

I always observed other players with awe and envy…

Why did they always get top billing?

I felt the HAPPY, PRIDE, CONTENTMENT, and SECURITY from them as they walked by…and felt empty inside…but they NEVER took a second look.

I figured they were instructed to over look.

Throughout it all…a whisper would occasionally tickle my ear, “Take the smile off.”

Occasionally, I was embolden enough to follow that whisper’s instruction


Parental, family, and religious correction was always swiftly given

The primary rule, me and my siblings were given, was always keep our smiles in place because ANY form of happy kept secrets HIDDEN…

Any secret revealed would mean the end of our world and WE ALL would be left with nothing

Long story short….

At 17 I knew I was of age to explore and find me…

However, due to lack of guidance at the time it took awhile to find what I was instructed to keep hidden.

I found myself playing a role of a good for nothing person who had no worth

This was the role I was playing when I got knocked up by a guy I now refer to as, “Her Father.”

Despite the handicap I was given, I knew, some way and some how I had to do better than I was given.

I had to figure a way to use the information I gathered watching others around me…

I grand plan was put in place…

The plan had only two  goals in mind…

My daughter would know she has a VOICE and given the POWER to use it come what may…

I swore, these two things I was denied she would have.

Don’t get me wrong it was a hard task to under take.

You see, it’s hard for a broken to raise a whole…

Turns out God was on my side and the desired end result was accomplished

However, my sorrow runs deep the price paid for this grand designs to be seen to futation is steep.

The price paid for this nobel plan of action was the Mom being seen for what she is….something to be left behind.

It’s expected…

I taught her to expect the best walk away from anything less.

I showed her all my flaws cause the only way to teach her what to be was to show her what not to be (which was me)

Yes, I wish I could turn back the time and show her by being the person I wanted her to be….

I wish we shared more hugs and kisses….

But with heavy heart I knew raising a child was not about me.

I am proud to say my daughter is perfection.

Looking back I now realize the process of raising her was also the process of raising me.

Perhaps in time, she will desire to know the woman I never knew untill recently myself.

But if not, my tears are wiped away by the knowledge of my success in raising a whole while broken myself.