Torn,Tattered Hearts 

The years haven’t erased

the sharpness of the pain

still brings tears to her eyes

and try as she might

there is a part of her

that can’t forget the day

the hearts were all

torn and tattered

shredded into pieces

marked with words

crossed out and underlined

that left her scarred

where no-one could ever see

she had held the box

decorated with such care

daring to hope against hope

though her intuition had known

All eyes were on her

almost taunting

she really should have waited

but she went on ahead anyway

 took a deep breath

opened up the box

and felt the bottom drop out

torn tattered hearts

words in black 

scratched out the “love”

mark “don’t” instead

broken candy bars

smashed into pieces

There was not much

 she could do

no saving grace

just too late

bite her  tongue

blinked her eyes

willed herself not to cry

slide that box underneath

the wooden desk

pray for strength

to pretend best as she could

until finally the bell rang

 And she escaped

threw away the box

 full of shame and hate

written on so many 

torn, tattered hearts

💔Jeanna 

10 54 a.m 2+12-17

http://www.jeannasoul.com

Music of Life

She looked at what it had to say

shaking her head

as she knew full well

the memories it would bring

of times gone by

heart to heart

kindred spirits

laughter shared

walks and talks 

early morning texts

late night replies

beautiful exchanges

some gone

others remain

choices made

that changed everything

and it’s all in the songs

lyrics she had never heard

bands she hadn’t known

the music plays on

and she dances

as she reads the words

feels the vibrations

does her work

vows to her heart

that she won’t be

anything less than

the brown eyed girl

in the song that plays

again and again

She’ll keep right on

living her life

being the Wild One

playing the songs

that take her down

the ragged edge 

of pleasure and pain

that the music brings

🎶 💗👣https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1E9KFFRpXPpB3U?si=49FL322MTFGXPRXI8AcrmA

Feel Touched

Come sit down 

right here

beside me

Come on

hold my hand

walk with me

Come in

lean against me

feel my strength

and your own

Come by

wrap your arms

around me

dance with me

Come along

lay down

safe beneath these sheets

receive the touch

your body needs

and your soul craves

Come back

for another hug

a gentle touch

that gives you

just enough

to go on

and reach out

to invite someone else

to come 

come inside

come just as you are

come and be touched

https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/d3gzba/the-life-of-the-skin-hungry-can-you-go-crazy-from-a-lack-of-touch?utm_campaign=sharebutton

💜As a massage therapist, I believe so strongly in the need for touch. I believe that if people received weekly therapeutic touch sessions, the world would be such a kinder place.  

Jesus modeled touch with compassion in such simple,beautiful, profound ways…No-one was “untouchable” or unreachable.

My Mema was the same way ….one of the best lessons she taught me was the simplest..the importance of touch.

There waa a homeless man that lived in the woods close to our home. Mema would often bring him meals from our home or, when she saw him out on cold mornings, she would get a cup of coffee and biscuits stuffed with sausage from the fast food restaurant on the corner….but the really important thing she did was more fulfilling than the food and drink.

Mema would hand him the food and hold his hands for a few minutes and meet his eyes. She would smile and talk to him as if he was a long lost friend.

She told me, “Jeanna’,look at his beautiful brown eyes…I imagine his momma just loved those brown eyes so much.”

Someone asked her once if she was afraid of getting germs from touching. “that dirty old homeless man” and, to this day, I remember her voice filled with anger as she replied, “I can always wash my hands and get the that kind of dirt off….but you can’t wash off an ugly heart!”

That just about says it all….

Touch someone today…and let yourself be touched,

Red Rover

“Red Rover, Red Rover”

She lays there

half awake and half asleep

long ago memories

pushing thru the haze

“Red Rover, Red Rover”

She stared at the row

of hands held tight

looking for the weakest link

to run to and break free

much to the surprise 

of those that doubted

 her might and strength

They only saw her size

bites and pieces 

of who she was

the label that they used
to try to describe

the girl they called

to break the line

“Red Rover, Red Rover”

She heard them call 

“Come over, Come over”

Spurred on by the doubts and the taunts

She ran as if her life depended on it

Broke the chains and the expectations

and suddenly she was in

standing in a row

lined up with the very same ones

that moments ago

spurred her on with doubts and taunts

“Red Rover, Red Rover”

Here she was

needed now 

She clasped the outstretched hands

and braced herself

dug her heels in

willed herself to have

more might and strength

Don’t let anyone think

she’s the weakest link

never let them break through

even if they knock her down

with doubts and taunts

she’ll surprise them all

that thought they knew

bites and pieces

of the girl they used a label

to describe

“Red Rover, Red Rover”

She sits up 

wide awake now

seeing clearly 

all the times 

she clasped hands

broke through the chains

the expectations

the labels

surprising herself and others

with her might and strength

and finding out

exactly what are the weakest links

and who is strong enough

to hold her hand

break free and be there

“Come over, Come Over”