Own it

Stand in front of a mirror
Look at your face
Look at your body
Realize that body has endured
That face has seen it all

Look into your eyes
What do you see there?
There is sadness, yes
But there is more
Kindness, compassion...

You see wisdom and also pain
You see love
Touch that scar you see there
Run your finger over it
Remember how it got there

Your body has seen you through
Even when you abused it
When you let it go and ignored it
You treated it as if it was at fault
It's your body so own it

Your body is there for you always
It deserves your respect
You won't get another
Look into the mirror and say
I love you

You earned it.

~Victoria Stewart Meyers

Dolphin Dream

There's a little place I'd like to go
Hippy Joe's Coffee
It's run by this sweet lady who never got it right before
But she can cook and she can make a mean cup o joe
There's bandanas on the curtain rods
The tea glasses are mason jars
And light shines in the window
And lights up the gleaming floors
When its cold they gather round the wood stove
For coffee and tea that's always ready to go

There's painting on the walls
Done by a troubled young man
Alien landscapes and anamorphic selfies
Sometimes they sell a few to make the rent
Shelves on the walls with art on consignment
And a girl in the corner
On a homemade soundstage
She has a guitar and a gleam in her eye
Her voice is loud and clear and true
And when she sings there is not a dry eye in the place

And one day I'll drive away
In my Dolphin built for two
To a shore not so far
With a beach for me and you
And one day I'll drive away
In my Dolphin built for two
To a shore not so far
With a beach for me and you

And the waves will crash and the sky will spit
And the dolphins will play in the surf  as we sit
We'll stare off into the horizon
Till the sun sets down
 The we'll head on back to Hippy Joe's
And friendship and love will meet us there

Victoria is my Name

I was born Victoria Lee Stewart in January
In a small retirement community a full week into the new year
Yet I was the New Years baby

I once asked my mother who I was named for
A queen perhaps, or a far away city?
"No" she said, "I just thought the name is beautiful- you are beautiful"

But she didn't call me that beautiful name, instead she called me Vickie
She spelled it in a different way then most
with the "ie" on the end instead of a "y"
Nobody ever got it right

It rhymed with all manner of unpleasant names
Which I suffered throughout elementary school

Vickie, Dickie, Sicky, lickie, Mickie, picky... icky

Finally I had the chance to re-brand myself
A move to a new state when I was nearly 12
Now I was Tori...
No longer gangly, and awkward, with buck teeth, and stick out ears
I was tan and tall and pretty and I was "The girl from California"

And Tori didn't rhyme with anything gross

The move was no good for a girl with no self-esteem however, instead it proved to be a disaster that set me on a path of self loathing and self destruction

Suddenly attractive to boys and with out compass or sanctuary
I became victim to the whim and desires of others
Mississippi holds no fond memories for me
I cringe at the thought of meeting someone who knew me then

Leaving Mississippi behind did not remove its shadow from my heart
The shadow cold and lonely followed me thru Arkansas, Okinawa, New York, Connecticut and back to Arkansas again and Wisconsin and Florida and Arkansas again, and again to Arkansas

The dark times were dismal with this shadow overhead, no light could penetrate. Anguished nights spent screaming into the dark,
Cicadas roar covered the sound with no purchase found in those days

Years passed until I finally made another move
To a new place inside myself.
I decided to grow into me
I know it sounds too simple but that was just what I did
I left behind the old shadow, the shame and solitude
I changed from the inside out, my food, my outlook
I nourished myself in ways that have nothing to do with my address

I am Victoria now and forever
I am beautiful and free

Unconditional Love

I wanted to tell you
What I've learned about
Unconditional Love

Right from the start
I knew that he never had it
Not until he met me

For so many years
I loved that man
I begged him to see
I was giving him everything
He ever asked for
Ever dreamed of
Everything he always wanted
He couldn't see it

I thought - I knew
That we would get thru it
That any minute he would
He would open his eyes and see me
And it would all be worth
The pain, the tears
The bruises
We would both finally have
What we always wanted

I was willing to bear it all
To have unconditional love
And to give unconditional love

Eventually, it all fell apart
The choices weren't mine to make anymore
Still I knew - if I had faith
and I kept on loving
That one day it would all be worth it

What I didn't know was that one day
My baby girl would be 5 foot something
And she would stand and look me in the eye
and say
"I wish you would die"
I didn't know that she could never appreciate
The sacrifices I had made for her, for her brother
For her sisters

I didn't know three angels would
Shut the door to heaven from me
And open their mouths to drench me with
Retribution

I didn't know my firstborn
Would turn her hate on herself
I didn't know that I would be
Forever locked in the hell I made

Because I had loved unconditionally

In the end he never loved me.
Love is a verb you see
And the verb he held in his heart for me was hate
He hated me with his words, with his hands

H edidn't know how to love me
Or anyone else
And he never cared to learn

In the end it was never worth it
Not worth my pain, my tears
Not worth my bruises
Certainly never worth my babies

And these will never learn this lesson
Because I never taught it to them

And now I see her trying to love that way
My baby girl
Giving away too much of herself
To a boy who will never open his eyes and see her.
And she doesn't yet know
And you tell her but she doesn't care

It was never worth it
It will never be worth it

The History of My Heart (Conclusion) by Victoria Meyers (28 of 30)

The history of my heart concludes with hope and longing for the future.

It doesn't really conclude because it still beats here in my chest.

Though it flutters from time to time, it shudders from the memories and the damages and ravages of time.

Still here it beats, inside a great black hole in my chest and the hollow thudding echoes in my bones and my steps.

This heart is weary but not worn out. Resting but not yet done. Perhaps it can find the strength to love another again? Not now, not soon, but maybe.

For now this heart is learning, to love me. Learning to uncover the truth in a memory and the harsh cold reality without breaking. I feed it with self loathing, and memories, and dreams purged from my guts and re-digested truths.

It trembles and quivers with pain and exhaustion. Yet still it beats.

Each new day the tide changes, the burden is lighter. I do not mean to forget the lost ones, who still are trailing my progress.

I will never let them fall further then I can see them, but they are too far to catch me soon.

The history of my heart cannot ever fully conclude alone.

It can end,

Yes; it can stop beating, though it doesn't., even as hard as I have tried to make it stop.

I've pounded at it and even tried to cut it out with a knife.

There it still beats inside that iron box, that great black hole.

My quivering damaged heart begins to glow with hope ever still.  

The History of My Heart (Part 4) by Victoria Meyers (27 of 30)

The history of my heart has a latest chapter. One of exquisite love and ultimate horror. It's name can only be called, pain. With death, and death, and new love and hope dashed. Wings spread and soaring heights of love that fall and fall and fall to a fiery burning depth. It was going to be the final victory and it became the final torment. The depths of the mothers torment and the wife's desire know only the rule of heart.

Salvation found and peace and joy cultivated for nothing and lost, maybe forever? The sins of the father, on the son are nothing compared to the sin of Eve on my child. On my heart. A wicked indulgence to be so bold, so crass. To question Jehovah, God, the only way to peace and the furthest fall from grace.

The heart that finally found the greatest love, that finally found the highest purest love and then lost it. The heart that finally found the most exquisite peace and the joy and loss, and loss and broken carnage of soul.

The heart polluted by the demon that came in so many forms, the trickster. The lover. The death. The pain.

A beach, some wine and sweet sweet promise of death yanked away. The fall of hope rising, and falling and rising and falling again. Like a Ferris Wheel ride. My heart could take no more of the dizzying heights and garish carnival lights, looking down on the crowds of soulless mournful ants and wind rushing through the iron spokes the roar of the wind, the hideous musical joyous ride of a lifetime.

Where does one go to find such pain? Arkansas. Florida. Anywhere it seems.

The history of my heart has not ended. The history of my heart continues to unfold. With sickening hope it blinks its moist eyes once again in the sunlight, in the morning mist. It hopes, it breathes it refuses once again to die.

Three deaths are visited upon this heart this life, pray it will not be four, pray it will be released. Pray it is forgiven. Pray. Pray . Pray.

Pray the vine grow forth from my fingertips, thru my pencil tips. Pray the vine with heart shaped leaves will spread its lush green healing over the girl in the chair. Pray the vine will carry the forgiveness of the light thru its lifeblood to overtake the pain, to overtake the life and soothe away the shame.

Pray the vine heals, the green love spreads far and wide and covers the earth with hushed softness and rainforest strength of the oldest and tallest and strongest.

Pray.

To Be Continued....

The Vine by Victoria Meyers (5 of 30)

I want to write about beautiful things
Like flowers and growing things
Let me put my pencil to paper and write a vine that grows right out of the tip
I want to watch that vine turn green and flow into heart shaped leaves
I want to watch that vine flowing freely across my paper until a tendril reaches the edge
I want to watch that tendril break free of my page and reach out into the real world
I want to watch that vine spread from my page out onto my skin and grow and multiply to cover my body up and down with tendrils and leaves and flowers like tattoos
But no, don't stop there I want to watch those vines and flowers spread and cover the chair in which I sit and down onto the floor
I can imagine how the lines will swirl and curl and form the shapes before my eyes until the floor is like the forest floor
And then the vine will spread up the walls of my room and cover the ceiling becoming sturdier and more real and full until they burst right out the window and into the air
I want to watch that beautiful vine full of purple, pink and yellow flowers and lush green leaves take over my neighborhood and fill the streets and cover the houses and parked cars with love and joy and acceptance
I want to watch that vine turn into a forest and fill the world until there is no more ugliness but only colorful spring flowers and fresh green leaves
And then maybe, just maybe my vine will touch you
And cover over your pain
And color your heart with my love

~The Vine by Victoria Meyers