Just Hear Me.

I'm Terrified too, but I'll follow you into the dark.
As long as I can come out with you.
Say what you want, tell me to stop, but I'm not.
I'm here with you too..

Don't tell me Obstacles

     There's days where I cry because the pain hurts so bad, but I keep pushing in harder, keeping my shoulders back. There's days where I ask God "what's next" and sometimes I never hear an answer from him. There's the moments where I feel so useless so paper thin and ready to break; I want to give up, but instead I carry all the weight on my shoulders..I can tell you how weak I am, I can also tell you how strong, but I can't tell you where I'm gonna turn next, what I'm gonna say or how I'm going to act. I've been told who I am, I've been raised right and to keep my head straight. But I'm not perfect, I make mistakes. I have siblings older than me that were gone before I really needed them around. I was little and nieve and didn't give a care to what others think. I was strong then..but how about now?

     I watched the sky cry when I was little putting my face to glass and asking my mama; "why was the sky having a fit?" she then drew me a picture of what happens when the sky crys and the thunder rolls. I looked up to her in such awe and amazment. She was my inspiration. My dad when he played the guitar and sang I would dance around and sing also. When he was gone late nights and slept all morning and I had to be quiet. I looked up to him as my hero, the man that still is today strong and deligant. The night where my mom never came home with dad and panic from my sisters eyes telling me "mama's really sick" with tears in her eyes, little was I to know..my mama died..I fell asleep in my brothers arms and felt his chest quake, I heard his heartbeat and knew something was wong. Letter's were sent to us and what seemed like a billion teddy bears sent. Something broke inside Niko and he never came out of his room. He and I never were the closest, he always pushed me away..and when mama came back home he seemed to still stay in his room. I never saw him cry until we went to the hospital to see my mom he walked out of her room and I knew something was wrong..I stood there so excited to finally see her to finally know she's ok, but I don't think I understood the meaning of death till I saw her. She wasn't the beautiful women I knew, the one that laughed with me and played with me in the livingroom. She wasn't the mom that made me cinnamon toast and laid with me in bed and stroked my hair. My mom looked like death. I walked in and back out because I was confused but she called me back and everthing inside me knew, this was the women that gave me my name, the mom that laughed and played, this is was my mom who I missed so much..Her eyes literally red from all the veins busted her body bruised from all the doctors pushing her to stay. I climbed into bed with her and she gave a tiny cry and I think I held to tight but I never wanted my mama to die.

      My father was the strongest, I never saw him cry, so controled and upright, I love this man still today because he keeps my head high. He's the man that told the doctors he wouldn't give up and that she wasn't dead. I remember nights waking up and being sick. My granfather sleeping in the living room and telling me to go back to bed. But my father, my daddy had the courage to tell the doctors no, to tell them he doesn't believe them, and to hold me when I came out of that room. My sister the bravest out of us all kept the family going packing bags and driving back and forth to my dad. I could hear her crying in the bathroom at night trying to keep herself together. She was the oldest, she became frustrated at times but I remember her still laughing with me even though it was hard yelling at me even when I started to cry and slaming the door without sometimes saying good-bye, but not once did she give up, not once did she not get back up and take care of the family when they were gone. She gives me Inspiration to keep Moving on. She told me "its okay to be you" she held me in her arms when I cried and left me a letter on the bed when she left, when I was nine. I couldn't sleep for three months when she was gone and she wrote to me everyday. Still today I know, maybe if I was older I would have had the best friend connection but I guess age doesn't matter.

     So there's days where I want to cry and give up because I think it's to hard, there's days where I think I'm to weak to even take another step forward. I can tell you how weak I am, or how strong I am, but I've been raised to keep my head high and shoulders back even when it becomes to much. I am what I am, but doesn't  mean YOU know who I really am. I don't know where I'm gonna turn next, what I'm going to say or how I'm going to act but I do know what has gone on in my life has shaped me and made me into someone that keeps fighting. And I'm not going to stop. NO MATTER WHAT