The veil that I wear

I’m unafraid to remove the veil

but if I remove it or speak while I’m hurting

my realness may scar you

and I wouldn’t want my loves to feel as I  💔

My Transparency and My Love for others feel like a curse at moments like these… As I look back over all the years of pain that is living within the depths of my soul, I sometimes question “Will I ever have a moment to birth out this so-called great purpose for what I’m destined to fulfill?

If I’m not in pain from the labor of life, I’m in pain from the knives in my back pushed in so it has pierced my heart and I somehow manage to live with a faint heartbeat while I close my eyes to embrace my love and willing take the next puncture to my back. I’m holding on to their body so tight, rubbing and patting them on the back, softly whispering it’s ok as they find a place to stab me ever so gently in the back. I let out a sigh as they swiftly walk away  and shout “I’ll be here whenever you need me!”

Then there are the days I self medicate in an effort to pretreat the pain of loving unconditional. I convince myself that my love is not a vampire as I feel their sharp teeth sink into my neck sucking the blood from my body. After their done I run to the mirror, giggling at what I envision is a passion mark that was left by my love. So numb and unaware of not only their teeth mark but my pale clammy skin that lays lifeless on the cold tile floor…My unconditional love, not for self is what revived me…

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But as I said I’m unafraid to remove the veil and speak what I see and feel. I  can no longer live like this and I have decided it’s time to remove the vail.

Wilhelm Heinrich Otto Dix (German. Wilhelm Heinrich Otto Dix [ˈvɪlhɛlm ˈhaɪnʀiç ˈɔto ˈdɪks]; December 2, 1891, Gera, Thuringia — July 25, 1969, Singen, Baden) is a German painter and printmaker.
Pronounced avant-garde in the 1920-ies was associated with Dadaism and expressionism. Along with George Grosso, a representative of the so-called «new objectivity».
The paintings of Dix distinguish social and pacifist motives, understanding of human values.
Otto Dix is one of the founders of the Association of artists called the Dresden secession, which appeared in Dresden in 1919.
In the last months of the Second world war, Otto Dix was called up for military service in the ranks of the Volkssturm. At the end of the war, Dix was captured by French troops, and in February 1946 released.

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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