Be not afraid of the night. If you hear strange sounds do not take fright. That sound just means that I’m around.
I passed on when you were barely three. I tried to beat cancer desperately. My body left but my spirit did stay. I never wanted it to go away.
I am that silence in between everyone’s talk. I am that shadow by your side as you walk. I am that soft sound in your ear. If you listen closely you can hear.
I know life may not seem fair. I know it seems that no one cares. I never left you so don’t feel all alone. I am right here beside you and needed you to know.
I pray for the night when you’ll be able to see me but for now be not afraid. Remember I love you and I’m so proud of the life you have made.—————————————————————————————————————
Do you believe in the beyond? Is there such a thing as spirits dwelling among us? Guiding us? Is that sound just them trying to communicate with us? Are imaginary friends perhaps our passed on relatives keeping our children company? Things to ponder about.
Dear Parents
Who am I? I am a teenager and even if I don’t say much it doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say. Just because you see me detached from everything with my headphones on or my video control in hand it doesn’t mean I don’t crave to connect. I still need you to ask me how I am. Why don’t you ever ask?
Every time we fight you call me a rebel, a defiant person, a liar and a rude human being. You shout I shouldn’t have been born. You never stop to ask me why I am this way. Don’t you care about what happened to me! Even when I do tell you, you shrug your shoulders and call me silly, a baby and you say “Just grow up already!” Did you ever stop to think that what I told you was trivial to you but broke my heart. It crushed my soul and my confidence! You never listen and I’m with the headphones on!
You push me away when I need you to just hug me. I long to be comforted not only one day but everyday. When I say leave me alone, I mean please stay and tell me you still love me. Being a teenager is tough! My body is going through changes and come 18 will I go to college. Where? I want to do one thing but everyone says do the other. Do I live out your dream to make you happy or my own and risk losing you? I want to pull out my hair because you don’t get me and it seems you really don’t care. Do you wish I disappear?
Signed
A Teenager
Dear Parents
I’m too much! Too loud or too quiet! I’m lazy but don’t stay still. I am trying to get your attention. Why can’t you see that? I guess because I’m defiant and rude. You want me to stop and leave you alone so I’m leaving. Bye.
Signed
A Teenager
Dear parents
I found other things to do and I’m sorry if they are wrong. I used drugs to help me forget. I prostituted myself because I craved being loved. I don’t want that life for me anymore! Please come get me. I’m in prison. Come get me and hug me. Please! I need you to really love me. I crave for you to tell me that I’m still your great child even if I’m lazy, loud, too quiet, defiant and rude. Why? Because I am your teenager.
Signed
Your Teenager
Note to all parents: Love your teen and take an interest in what they are doing. Listen to their stories. Hug them. Don’t assume they don’t need you. Don’t give up on them! Countless youth are lost. Some are killed, others imprisoned and some sadly commit suicide. Don’t let that happen to your teenager too. Act now! Don’t wait.
Michael Saremba was a young 14 yr old I met while working in a teen center in Ithaca. He had aspirations but sadly he did not feel loved or wanted in his own home. At 3 am instead of sleeping in his own bed he was out with the wrong crowd and was killed. This blog was inspired by his memory. May he rest in peace.
I am a paper that is quite unique. I am the finest, the last one you’ll seek. I am a paper white as can be. Take out your pen and write on me. Your pen is magical with its ink so strong. Glide it carefully and don’t do it wrong. I promise to fold but be gentle though. Hold me lovingly or I might tear. Take your time and show me you care. Caress my page with words that are couth be the one that always writes the truth. Hold Me. Fold me. Behold me. Don’t let your written words fumble or you’ll be the one that will crumble. I am your paper white as can be so take out your pen and write on me.
Mom? Dad? Why am I not enough for you to love? Was I not created in God’s image? Everyday of my life shouldn’t be a scrimmage! Don’t you realize I am slowly dying without your love?
I am supposed to be your precious child, your pride and joy. Yet you reprimand me because I’m not like the other boys. I was born this way. Please just love me! Don’t push me away!
The cruel world will frown upon me because of my orientation. They will say I am not a sensation. But I am. I know I am. Please love me. Hold me! Don’t push me away! Don’t leave me alone to be their prey!
Knock, knock, please open the door. Let me in. I can’t face this cruel world alone any longer. Help me heal these wounds and these sores! Make me stronger. Love me! Help me! Help me please! I’m afraid. Can’t you see this pains me at my core? Please open the door. I fear my life will be no more. . . . .
Mom? Dad? Why am I not enough for you to love?
Namaste
Guady G
Hugs from Brooklyn
Message to parents:Please remember that children are ours. We brought them into this world and we should love them despite their sexual orientation. If they tell us then count that as a blessing. We need not push them away because their ideasdon’tcoincide with ours. Home should be a safe place where they are enough and where they feel loved. If not we risk losing them to bad crowds, drugs, self-deprecation and yes even death. The same baby you once swore to protect is now that teenager before you or that adult before you. It is not too late to open that door of love and acceptance. So open the door. Let them in.
Message to Teens/Adults: Please acknowledge that acceptance comes in steps. For some it is very difficult and it will take time. Give them time. Don’t give up on them! Don’t give up on yourself! You matter because you are enough!Find someone you trust who truly cares, seek counseling and chin up because you are loved. One day the entire cruel world will realize you are a sensation despite your sexual orientation. So go ahead, knock on the door again.
Hugs from Brooklyn
May peace, love and tranquility be with you always.
With Love
Dr. Macias.
As I sat by my window I heard bird chirping coming from outside. I looked out the window and saw a bird fly by. I extended my right hand and the bird flew to me. It then sang the most beautiful of songs.
I wondered why the beautiful bird sang alone. As I held the small bird in my hands I noticed it was wounded. Poor little bird was bleeding on the area below its right wing. My heart raced and I became sad. For some reason I really cared for the bird.
The bird then took flight but faithfully returned everyday and sang its melody to me. I can’t begin to tell you the elation I felt. I was invisible in the world and it all changed the moment the bird came to me. I was no longer invisible! I was special! I was loved!
But one day the bird didn’t come. I missed it so much. Where did it go? What had I done wrong? As I wondered, a thought came to mind. His wound had healed and now it did sing among the other birds. I extended my arm out the window praying it would come to me like before but the bird just flew right by. I felt pain in my chest, and put my head down and I cried.
Photo by Dương Nhân on Pexels.com
Three days later I heard chirping coming from outside. I ran to the window and saw that my beautiful bird chirped the loudest among the others. The melody was directed towards me and I was ecstatic. With utmost excitement I extended my right hand but once again the bird didn’t fly to me. I was sad but I smiled because at that moment I realized how much he loved me too.
Sincerely
Guady G
Hugs from Brooklyn
This entry is placed in dedication to Anaya Ruiz age 11 for requesting something she could read. This story is about love and purity. Sometimes the love is there but we can’t be with those we love. Anyone have a story to share? I love to write but I also love to read.
Fluidity 