time seems to have stopped, life frozen in place. yet it feels as if an eternity has passed since i’ve seen your face. i find myself lost in sorrow and tears, day after day. wonder if you’ve found peace in the heavenly fields where you lay.
PREVIOUSLY : Finding Faith (A Novella) – Intro PREVIOUSLY : Finding Faith (A Novella) – Part 1 _______ Part 2 : No Fight Left/Letting Go _______ There seemed to be a breakthrough. The sun seemed to shine a bit more with Lena in Faith’s corner. She’d found her desire to get up andContinue reading “Finding Faith (A Novella) – Part 2”
PREVIOUSLY : Finding Faith (A Novella) – Intro _______ Part 1 : What Do The Lonely Do? _______ Weeks had passed since Faith locked herself away with nothing more than embittered feelings and a broken heart. Dark thoughts running rampant as she made a futile attempt to remove herself from a world thatContinue reading “Finding Faith (A Novella) – Part 1”
Intro : No ‘Good’ In Goodbye _______ The cloud on which she rested comfortably dissipated without warning. Like the world crumbling at her feet, Faith Porter felt herself falling face first. Time stopped, freezing on a moment she’d never forget no matter how hard she tried. Her chest rose and fell, words onlyContinue reading “Finding Faith (A Novella) – Intro”
Gloria stood still, feet planted firmly though she willed herself to run away. The sight before her was one she couldn’t believe, one she didn’t want to believe. Ha, Ha, Ha echoed loudly in her head, the chorus of her friends and family laughing behind her back. They had to know, they’d surely tried to warn herContinue reading “Silly Wasn’t I by Cortney Joseph #ShortStoryAugust”
November 1987 Being held up by her sons as they all stood under a large tent, Norma rocked very slowly from side to side with her short frame causing her to look diminutive compared to the young men she’d birthed and raised. Her eyes were closed and she was praying silently, asking for thatContinue reading “A Family, Broken | by Cortney Joseph”
I took a deep breath, preparing myself to cry. The way I do every year, but something different happened. I laid there all the way until it got to the part of the song where Ice Cube began running off crimes that white people commit but blame black folks for, and nothing happened. No tears, no sense of heaviness, no sense of failure.
Though I was exhausted, having worked a few extra hours the day before… I made it a point to get up early this saturday morning. The 29th, and while I have this stupid competition I let Justin and my sister talk me into doing, that the creators decided at the last minute to change the time for, I also need to see my daddy this morning. To see him, and to give him his copies of my last two poetry collections.
Thankfully today, I got off early, and tomorrow, the 22nd, I have the day off. I knew that if I was finally going to get serious about doing this competition, and working towards feeling better about myself in general, I had to buckle down. That starts today, and if I have to keep my ass in the house and work all evening and night, then so be it.
He folded his arms across his chest and began mocking me. “Ugh, I wouldn’t dare get on stage. They’ll take one look at my fat ass and know that I’m a terrible writer. But you don’t do that, huh? Not that you’re even fat or overweight, but that’s what you call yourself, so-”