The Divided Room

The room of large, divided areas. The areas of the screaming and yelling are sectioned off from this moment to the past. The divided room has changed all sharp edges and corners to curved ones. The strings from my pain to my clothing have been removed from my senses.

The divided room has me wandering from one thought to the next, from one depression, to the another. I look in the mirror. The mirror has reminded me that the answers only come from the view. The colors of the room are decorated from the past to the end. The room is lighted by controlled expectations from outside experiences to the internal trauma of another.

I have been sitting in this divided room since the beginning of my first blood. I was tied to the hanging rope with no one to hear me speak my truth while many were ready to pull through their feelings.

In the divided room I sit beside myself talking with others who have left me behind. I sit in the divided room talking with others who have asked to remove me. I sit in a divided room talking with others who said they did not believe in me.

I miss my mom!!

I have stuck my hand in the mud and pulled the trigger. I have been broken, geared, and trained. This is not a story. This is a brick in the house of hope. I shall break down every morsel of sand in my being and rebuild them with my tears of joy, love, and hope. I, and I alone, have guided myself into this room of division to bring unity.

I sit in this divided room with no one waiting for me except me. I see you in the mirror with the eyes of my mom as it leaves the room. I hear you in the future said the voice of my mom as it wanders out of earshot.

The divided room can only be divided when you are not invested. I never thought it would be this hard. I never thought I could have a chance to live. It only took love to combine me. It only took love to convince me. My mothers love.

My mother loved Me so!!!

Written by Dr Paul W Dyer