What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball.
What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked Crystal Ball.
Have you seen the crystal ball?
Have you heard the souls scream trapped in her cloudy walls?
Everything you love gone before it even happens,
nothing left of your soul among the cold dark ashes.
They say fools wish to be free,
until they’re in a free fall…
Fools gamble time and the ball she takes it all
‘Cause the crystal is a cheat,
the crystal is a liar,
The crystal is a frozen world of ice and of fire. To live in a lie the price is the truth,
to be frozen in time the price is your youth. But you knew, it never tricked you,
You let it seduce you, left scars on your skin-as if it ever needed you.
Some always come crawling,
some may escape her call.
But you should never listen to my wicked Crystal Ball…
What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball…
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball.

A young boy sits in a wooden chair
Gazing forward
A ball of crystal perched before him
Almost invisible
It warps and clouds what lay behind it
He knows there will be a price
But he must try
He wants to know,
He has to know.
He gazes into its prism chamber
And it tells.
When he lifts his head, his breath taken away
The awe of the secrets told to him
Fade
When he sees his reflection
He sees that he is no longer the same man
But old, so old.
The ball has told him what he wished to know
But he had to pay the price of time
He walks away, as many have before,
Feeling cheated
Feeling like it all went by so fast
If he could only have another chance
If he could only get that time back
But he can’t
Time is the only thing you have
And the only thing you can never have
It is yours, spent
And the crystal ball will steal your time
The crystal will steal your life.

If you had any shred of decency left in you
You’d stay away from my boo
To that little boy
I’m the only one that’s true
If I could flip it all back
Spin it all around and let you see
Literally the little me…..
Nurturing, loving, carrying him through
When not everyone else was always onboard too
I’m the only thing and woman he’s ever really known

Now he’s sitting here looking at me full grown
What you tried to protect your whole life, sits there looking at you like you’ve just ripped out a knife
What I tried to avoid his whole little life
Will he ever understand that all mommy every wanted was to make a good man?
Can’t he please just understand?
This precious seed turns around and now questions me, how dare he?
I can’t explain it all, I don’t know how I could
If I could lay it all out right here, right now trust me I would
Let it all go for good
Let you see all my choices weren’t always the smartest
But always out of love and always for good

I guess protection is a strange thing
You want to take them under your wing
You don’t realize how much you cling
Well, here we are young man, here I stand
This is all of me, still standing, still fighting
Always will
At least I will try
I hope one day you understand

Love Always,
Your “Teen” Mom

I had an addiction for 23 years, I have been clean for over 30 yrs minus my slips and falls that through me into the ring of addiction, because I let my guard down thinking that I was stronger than it, when actually the addiction was stronger than me. But such as life try and try again. I am clean and have been for many years. I allowed myself to lured back but the last time was the last time. I asked myself some questions and the most important was do you want to live or die, do I want to live a full life filled with endless possibilities or die not reaching my full potential. I choose life . I became to love self, and wouldn’t accept any old thing , I have been hopeless and helpless and I have done things that only me and God know about. I have come full circle I know my value . I graduated from college and wrote a book. I hope to be a recovery coach, where I help those who are still trapped be free and stare in the face of addiction and say I won and I am stronger than you. Now in my life there is so many things I want to do all for the glory of God not for fame or fortune all though these things have there place, that is not my motivation. I survived so that I may be a help to others.

Clear the road- I am 16!!
Happy birthday, my sweet boy.
This is when I legally run out of excuses to get you that driver’s permit. This is when I nervously let go of your last little finger , only to grasp and firmly shake your hand in friendship🤝 This is when many transitions happen. This is when some of it makes sense to you but a lot more does not. This is when the world suddenly looks weirder, scarier, cooler, exciting, fun,crazy and different for you, all at the same time. Then is when we may agree to disagree on a lot. Remember, nobody has it all figured out entirely, neither have I, neither will you.
But I promise to try and understand..I promise to stay onboard, face the tides and ride the unending high and low waves of life side by side with you forever and ever and ever.
Love,
Amma

“Mom. Mom. MOM!” Dawson yelled.
Why did he insist on calling me from upstairs? Was I the only one with legs in this house? I started up the staircase, muttering as I climbed. I reached the top and found Dawson sitting on his bed meticulously inspecting a sweatshirt in his hands.
“What do you want?” He looked up, clearly as annoyed as I was though not for the same reason.
“Mom, why didn’t you try harder to get this stain out of my sweatshirt?” I strained to see what he was pointing to. He shoved the sweatshirt inches from nose and still the spot was barely visible.
“Did you try all of the stain removing products?” He demanded more than questioned. I resisted glancing at the clock on the wall which would inevitably announce how late this ridiculous conversation was making us. The cats circled his unmade bed, meowing for their breakfast. He’d put on a t-shirt but was still wearing pajama bottoms and hadn’t brushed his hair by the looks of it. All those unfinished tasks yet to be ticked off the morning list caused a nervous twitch at the corner of my eye. I called upon my inner yoga-mom, took a deep breath, exhaled.
“You did not tell me it had a stain when you threw it in the wash, so I washed it. That set the stain making it nearly impossible to remove. When I finally noticed the stain, I treated it several times and re-washed it, still to no avail.”
His eyes widened; he dropped his sweatshirt on the bed. “So, you’re just going to give up?” His voice cracked.
I scanned his face certain he must be pulling a fast one on me. His tight expression revealed otherwise. But instead of conjuring feelings of motherly compassion, I lost my temper altogether.
“Dawson, half my life is likely over. I am not going to spend what precious moments I have remaining scrubbing a stain out of a six-dollar sweatshirt. You’re young. If you want to scrub that stain, have at it. Knock yourself out. But I’m done. Now get ready.”
The drive to school was mostly silent and I had a chance to calm down and see the incident for what it really was, a vehicle to channel emotions he was feeling but hadn’t the words to express. We were both having a hard time accepting this next step, but we’d agreed on it. This was the last day Dawson would attend high school. At least for the year, I was officially withdrawing him.
I pulled into my usual designated handicapped parking spot and unlocked the doors. Dawson cast an accusatory look at me because of course I was breaking the law. But for like three minutes, I reasoned. He snatched his pencil, an eraser, and a protein bar, from the stash in the glove compartment, grabbed the car door handle.
“Hey, babe,” I reached across the seat, laid my hand on his shoulder, “The stain will fade over time. All stains do.” He smiled back at me.
“Love you, too Mom.”
I drove to the district office as if to a graveside, with a heavy heart. I walked slowly up the steps and straight to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hi, I’m here to withdraw my son from school.”
She looked at me with a confused expression. “So, you want to take him out of school?”
I nodded.
“Do you want to homeschool him?” she asked.
“Oh god, no.” She raised her eyebrows, and I was immediately embarrassed by my response. I explained I wanted to fill out paperwork to withdraw him from school, take him out, nothing else. She picked up the phone to call someone upstairs with more authority. It only took a few moments for the woman from upstairs to make it downstairs. She listened to my story, nodded.
“Yes, I’ll get the paperwork for you.”
It was involuntary, the tear that rolled down my nose and landed right where I needed to sign my name.
The woman with more authority leaned into me, patted my shoulder. “He can always come back,” she assured.
I thanked her for her kindness. I wondered if she could feel my failure. I wondered if she knew this was my second son to drop out, that I couldn’t inspire even one of my children to finish school. I thanked both women and made my way back to the car.
Inside the silent vehicle, I leaned onto the steering wheel. Rested my head for a moment. I closed my eyes and just breathed. Dawson never did have a decent day in school, especially once his father left. Every day had been a constant struggle with his tears, anxiety, and the effects of his obsessive-compulsive disorder. For my part, I’d simply tried everything I could. I threatened, bargained, bribed, begged and finally yesterday, I agreed to let him drop out. It was going to happen in less than six months when he turned eighteen anyway. Why prolong the inevitable.
Was I giving up? Maybe. For sure I was being forced to give up on my dreams and expectations for what I believed his life should be. And I’d have to learn to live with the stain it would leave on my mom-heart. But I reminded myself that it would fade over time. All stains do.

I normally pre-mate poems with pen and paper But, this cannot wait any longer or later. Your words truly have pierced mine, and I remember surly the same state of mind. So, I will simply type on this phone my friend, even though it might not have another end. Sitting alone here on a 5 corner square, I look and see nothing in the middle of nowhere I will re-read your note that was truly wrote- From eyes of faucet water-in these tears I float. Though there’s no end at all to this telephone line, Emotions they do crawl from your heart to mine. Surly an addiction at the bottom of Erie’s Lake- I had no problem fixing every high I had to make. I would want to write to you from the bottom where it comes, But I don’t know if that is true, when mind games are so dumb. Nor has any heart bore but only similar strings, Unless one is ripped apart-it’s just not right it seems. I just cannot believe there’s people out there like me, Nor do I ever think I’m any better you see For God has made different all human existence, Yet we’re all still sinners so full of resistance And the very best thing that came from covid disease… Is the simple quote that had the note, “Please”. Now we clearly see, “We are all in this together”… In the same boat-(as light as a feather)… Is the message of Salvation for the world to live forever! The basis of a Christian is not a perfect life, It’s more of who’s been missing-but been found by Jesus Christ! It is that of progress and not of perfection… It’s a brand new spirit that with God has made connection! Jesus promised all that whosoever will… On Himself may call-that He’ll save forever still! All the talents and gifts He gave to express Of how it’s always Him to pull us out of our mess. And to lead the way over glassy seas to shore My dear friend I pray-may this heart get to yours.