Memoire of Silence by DeVonshae Ali a.k.a Jah Artsy Gurl

Memoire of Silence by DeVonshae Ali a.k.a Jah Artsy Girl
-In the absence of sound, I am alone. Quiet covers me like a costly kimono. Thoughts, ideas & questions are spinning like a beautifully carved carousel of exotic existence in my head; but no one is aware!
-At first it was forced silence from pain so deep like the color black bathing me…forcing me to retreat off alone, refusing to talk. Unable to trust me and my heart with any human.
-My words ignored! My words twisted! My words forgotten! My words though expensive, cheapened by those who woud not allow my voice to take priority. I ONLY WANTED TO BE HEARD!
– Then, comfort set in and I found peace in silent existence. But in my quietness I withheld me from them but I still longed for a him to hear me!
-Now I’ve become locked away inside myself. Lost in a world of creativity & spiritual revelation. It’s lovely…so lovely that I desire to bring someone inside to share my views on sex, God, money, history & the mystery of life. To have conversations that last all night…to share secrets normally reserved for a wife.
-Out of quiet he calls me. Fear…fear has been the door keeper standing guard with sword drawn. Extremely selective… Overly protected. Covering me as if hiding me from those with I’ll intentions. Until he appeared at the door without permission. He bypassed the internal security system of my painful past & broken heart. He came to lounge comfortably and we shared a few laughs. He slowly exposed himself before me, bared his emotions stark naked. He was practicing trust and beckoned me to participate. His arrival was on time because for once I was open. I was not trembling in fear at the thought of being exposed. I wanted to see how he felt in my space. I wanted him to be near and to know me. I was open to hear his voice and views, the journey walked in his shoes & what happened that left the bruise I saw on his heart. I wanted to impart unto him the many levels of myself, nuture him with conversation of comfort like milk from my breast.
-I had no choice than to ponder why he came and if he would stay so I prayed. I prayed for me, for him, for our season of sound.. Sharing verbiage that tied our energies together and freed us to express ourselves. For him I broke out of silence! We were standing intellectually naked to penetrate one another’s thoughts. And I liked it!
-I could have easily became addicted to daily discussions and safe debates about bullshit but SUDDENLY WE QUIT! I feel so vulnerable and ashamed that I tried and released sound from inside. Now I am denied access to voice. Perplexed that I lost and found so quickly, crashed and burned intensely… All completely from letting him hear me. Yet what he heard is not what I said. My words again have now been forced back inside my mouth, heart & head. Although this is a beautiful place and I love every space…I hurt. I cry. I am rejected. I am forced to shake the welcome mat from the dust of his foot prints. In silence I swear to never speak again, to never have a friend, to not sub come to the personal sin of trusting.
– In the absence of sound I am alone…writing my Mémoire of Silence
@2015 DeVonshae Ali

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