Thursday, December 24, 2015

Pen, paper and tears by Matasha Lee

Pen, paper and tears by Matasha Lee

Some pain can make you lay your pen down
And choke every word that desires to come
As you attempt to reach down and grab the pen
The very air leaves your body
And life begins to wrestle with your soul
And the kid that danced within
Now only weeps.
As much as I desired to go back to that paper
And let it all go
It felt as if I was ripping in two.
I wasn't ready to let go
I wasn't ready to believe.
I wanted to break free from the veil that covered my eyes.
I wanted to feel my chest move accordingly to a normal breath.
It isn't easy but ink is meeting paper,
And they are holding hands.
My heart says, Are you ready
To deliver a word again.
I am not
But I push to sing a song of
Surrendering all
And letting what will be,
Will be.                                                                    

You live in my dreams by Matasha Lee

You live in my dreams by M atasha Lee

I can't talk to you anymore
Nor physically can I hold you
And you are no longer here
And my hearts yearns to have you near
But in the midst is now where you belong
In the morning dew is the only place I can witness your love.
You have to show up in the wind
Or in a beautiful song.
You spoke to me through music
And told me not to forget love.
I carry you with a sacred place
And each day I choose to let you go,
The more we connect in spirit.
When I am afraid you appear
In my dreams I see your face
And even though you are no longer here
I can still feel your warm embrace.
You let me know it will be okay
And trouble doesn't last always.
Your birthdays are now memories
Holidays are moments of silence
But in my dreams you forever live on.
I will wait for you tonight.

Your daughter 💕.                          

May I heal your heart by Matasha Lee

May I heal your heart by Matasha Lee

I will not point out the flaws of those who came before me
Because every decision they made helped teach lessons that now become my blessings.
It molded you into the man
I can now call my heart.
You may not see that bright star that led me to you
But God gave me traveling grace and a map to
Point me to where you are.
You are my reflections of prayers
That molded me to become a part of you.
Yes, I see you because I see me
And my sight isn't distorted by the images of wants
But a deep intimacy of love that is unconditional.
As my soul heals I can gather with your heart
And we can dance under each moonlight that our nights will have to offer.
Each sunset we embrace will sing sweet melodies
And our morning will be cherished too
As I look over my shoulders to see you there.
We are whole that is why we can be as one.

Butterfly song by Matasha Lee

Butterfly song by Matasha Lee

Wings of perfection,
Strong and bright,
Life's winds sing as you dance with music in the sky.
Life's cares
has becomes life's dances
As you play amongst the other beauties that fly with you.
You find pleasure in the twinkle of the sun.
Many admire every aspect of your being and you know that nature waits for your arrival as the midst of spring gleams the air.
But, you only imagine within the cocoon that that is what life has to offer to you.
Because as a caterpillar the admiration wasn't there
And in your size you felt defeated.
You seen what you could become
In your heart, you knew, but
Time made you wait
As you crawled through the dirt
And was only seen as bird food.
Many laughed at your thought of flying amongst the trees.
They saw only your right now.
You have no wings,
But you have come from a mighty long way
Of caterpillar days.
Fragile, but being perfected.
You are in the precious moments of delivery
Waiting to see one wing reach the new day offered
Then another to begin the life that calls your name.

Happy Holidays to the Broken hearted by Matasha Lee

Happy Holidays to the Broken hearted by Matasha Y. Lee

Happy Holidays, it seems as if everyone is enjoying themselves except you.
In your despair a bed of tears is your comfort
And darkness has gathered to lay with you.
They sing peace on earth
And you weep to seek peace within your heart.
No love ones to call and no one to care.
Not a materialistic thing excites you
And the voice you once cherished,
Can now only whisper in your sleep tonight.
Your mind is weary and your troubles are by your bed side.
Let this day transform for you.
Let your mind create a new thought.
Even though it seems like being happy would be a waste of time,
Here is my message to you.
Happy holidays to your heart.
Joy is bringing you a laugh.
Memories of good times are flowing to your mind
And depression is being arrested.
No one to gather
Say a prayer and indulge in the solitude of love that feels the air.
This isn't your moment to be surrounded by laughter, this is your moment to reflect on all the good things even if it seems far fetched.
I'm not writing from a place of sympathy as I take time to gather with love ones.
There is no Christmas decorations hung in my home,
Just spreading the love that God gave me.
You will get through it.
You will pull through it.
Happy Holidays to the now healed one,
Who has made it this far.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Fighting for the Vision pt. 3

My uncle came to speak to me and the sound of his voice was too similar to my dad's that I immediately turned to him and cried daddy but it wasn't him. The veil that covered my face got darker as the time went by and my dad didn't come out of the hospital. I sat in the car not desiring to enter the building not desiring for people to see me so shattered. The ugly dark side of me that was left vulnerable without my dad there to protect my flaws. My auntie finally got me out of the car and helped me to enter into the hospital. The lights were bright and people were everywhere. I couldn't take the light shining on me as I entered the room, but I was too sad to hide my vulnerability. I was too hurt to play pretend like everything was okay and even though I was physically there, my mind had left the building. I sat in a chair by myself to blind to look anyone in the face and I don't know why when my Tourettes act up I can't remember who people are and it hurts to look them in the face. I sat going insane wanting my dad, needing him, my heart felt crushed. I sat crying asking for my dad, where was he. I just wanted my dad, a simple request. People tried to speak to me, the pastor available to speak tried to say he was praying for me but I didn't hear anyone, as a matter of fact, I covered my ears with my fingers and repeated that I wanted my dad. The veil remained heavy and everyone was invisible. Pain comforted me and shoot everyone else away. I sat in the chair going insane and as I had to endure sitting in a chair with no physical cover to block out the pain I didn't want anyone to see. As I waited in the chair hoping to go through the procedures of saying my final goodbye, it never arrived. I'm not use to going to a hospital and the family being called to sit in a chair. What the hell did they bring me there for to sit in a bright light and be judged for not being able to keep it together. Oh, I knew that the walls of what I once knew had just came crumbling down. My dad didn't just die but my support system, friend that I had gained, and the reason why I was able to keep it together was gone. Wait, what, my dad is gone, he isn't coming back, no impossible, I don't believe it.

I could no longer sit and wait, I started crying even harder. I felt humiliated and I didn't understand why they thought it was okay to pull me through the torture of telling me that my dad is no longer here, to send me to a hospital full of people, and yet no give me one single chance to say goodbye, to hold him, to tell him to wake up, to lay in his bed, to kiss him, to touch him. I needed my dad was that so hard to understand. They couldn't have me in the hospital crying my heart out and pleading. They pushed me in a wheel chair outside to try to talk some sense in to me, to drill into me that he wasn't coming back. Yes, I didn't get comfort, love, I got insensitive bitches telling me to pull it together that my dad isn't coming back and I can't see him. Heartless people that didn't understand my desperation. What the hell did you bring me to the hospital for if you weren't going to let me have my moment. I could have died in the darkness of my home where I found out. You wanted my children to not see me hurt then go and get my dad and wake him up. Come and get my children and take them away from seeing my madness but do not expect me to be a mom when at this moment I am child without a father.

not my image

Monday, November 16, 2015

Fighting for the Vision pt. 2
This is a mini book representing one of the tragic moments that I had to experience back in October. My desire is that this book is used to heal me while healing others.
What do you do when the veil over your life is so dark and the weight of the world is upon you?
How do you begin to see light (pursuing your dreams and goals)? Keep reading and I will let you know.
They had placed me in the car and I was utterly frantic and the more they drove the more my heart ripped out of my chest. What were they making me go see and why couldn’t I just have my dad. If I could just have my dad then everything would be alright. I didn’t need to go see him in the hospital, to me, he wasn’t dead and they would soon learn that nothing was going to convince me otherwise.

As we went down the road I wanted to open the car door and run down the street. I knew he was going to come back to me. God wouldn’t allow him to leave me. It had to be a lie. I wanted my dad, now. I went back into being a child in search for her parent when he or she is lost. I felt uprooted from what I knew my life to be. I felt sick. I just wanted to see his face, to hold him even if it was just for one last time. I needed my dad, but the answer to when I would see his face and hold him again would turn into the longest wait of my life.

We drove down the dark highway and all I could think of was my book but at the time I didn’t know how it was connected but I knew it was similar. I had killed London’s father in the book but I didn’t remember how, but the agony can’t be described the way I felt after hearing the news. I felt like knives were piercing my flesh travelling deep within the wound of darkness and ultimate despair. I felt alone and just wanted to rock myself to sleep but I wanted my dad. I needed him and I wasn’t ready to process that he wasn’t coming back. I wasn’t ready to believe anything.

We arrived at the hospital and when I saw my dad’s car, oh hope reigned over me. I just needed to believe he was in there alive and well. They tried to get me out of the car but I didn’t want to get out. I kept repeating I didn’t want to go. I cried uncontrollably and I was in severe pain. I had lost it. I wanted to go home. People came trying to get me out but I didn’t want too. I didn’t know why I refused. What was I trying to protect myself from that I wasn’t aware of?
not my image

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Fighting for the Vision pt. 1 by Matasha Lee

(This is a mini book that I will share with fans about one of the biggest struggles that I have to overcome. The book is based off the events that happened after I received the news about my dad passing. One of the most tragic moments in my life happened the early mornings of October 5th. Immediately felt a veil covering my eyes and I had to find a way to fight for my vision again, but it wasn't just a physical fight but a spiritual one. My dreams and goals where at stake and I needed to begin to see real fast before I allowed myself to enter into complete and utter darkness. I am introducing to you, in parts, Fighting for the Vision because it is a very difficult subject to speak on and I am clearly not ready but through this process not only will I be writing again but healing and hopefully it will heal someone else as well. I am in a fight and I will win!)


Fighting for the Vision by Matasha Lee pt. 1


I had just got back on Facebook after a weeklong of being off and I was somewhat relieved. I had also written that day, so I felt accomplished. A few people liked it on Twitter and soon it would be mentioned, but as soon as I got back on fb I was messaged with, “I love you,” and I responded with, “I love you too.” “Well, I just wanted to let you know, daddy just had a heart attack.” I felt so confused but a part of me wasn’t afraid. I felt like he would be alright and he would get through it, but I hated that I couldn’t call him nor could I drive out to see him, so I texted him and was going to do everything in my will power to get to him to make sure he was okay.

Not even two hours later, I am receiving a phone call from my oldest brother saying that my dad didn’t make it. I screamed that he was lying and immediately my world darkened and I felt so much pain inside. Everything that made sense no longer made sense. Everything that was possible no longer seemed possible. I never knew my world could shift in such a way where I no longer understood life. Immediately I felt withdrawn from the world I knew. I cried so heavily that I felt my heart begin to ache and I felt my insides being ripped. My head felt like I would explode. It couldn’t be true and I wasn’t in a position to believe it. I was just waiting for my dad to show up and tell me it was a lie. I went temporarily insane. I have Tourettes which causes your body to have dominance over you when you have no control, and boy, did it show up that night. I felt like a little kid again, lost and in desperate need of love.

My family came over and tried to get me to go to the hospital but I was not having it. Even though I can’t fully control how my body reacts when my Tourettes act up I can comprehend everything that is going on around me and they had to drag me out of the house. I felt as if they were taking me away from my dad. I held on to the rails real tight and pleaded for them to leave me alone. They lied to me and told me that my dad was still alive. Even though at the time I didn’t believe that he was gone, I knew he wasn’t any longer with me when I received that phone call but I needed to be at home so he could tell me that everything would be okay. Pain came on me like it was becoming new skin upon my flesh. I couldn’t shake it. I just became completely covered and my eyes wore a dark veil that kept me from being able to see any light in the room.

Saturday, October 24, 2015

What is it for that You bless my barren land? by Matasha Y. Lee

This land is barren, unfruitful,
cast it away!
there is something buried in the corpses that can live.
The dry bones can breathe again.
Breathe, do you not see the carcases scattered,
the flesh has left its home
and returned to dust?
You bother to waist your time
on what cannot give life into this world.
Cast it away,
we must carry on,
time is ticking.
No, I will not give up on this land.
I've seen flowers grow in dark places
Water run in dry places,
through the belly of a rock
I gave drink to the thirsty/
You see drought,
but I see potential.
I see growth.
In My wings will I cover this land
and soon it will birth life,
the people will rejoice at the miracle performed
for opening the wound of the childless.
Releasing the pain of the broken hearted one.
Sheltering the homeless from another sleepless night.
I will rescue My people,
the forgotten ones.
The ones who sowed in a barren land.

Death's Residue by Matasha Lee

Where is your sting death?
Where is it?
You were suppose to take me out,
On an assignment to defeat me,
you watched my last breathes as you examined my chest lose its motion,
but you couldn't keep me from choosing life.
You couldn't keep me from being free.
You tried and you almost succeeded.
You wanted to control me.
You wanted me to be buried beneath the stars and the sun that provide light.
You wanted my voice to be silent
where no one could hear my scream.
You tried,
but I'm still here.
hahaha, yes,
I'm still here,
stronger than ever,
braver than ever,
What are you going to do death?
What are you going to do?
Don't you get that?
Don't you know that no matter what you throw at me
I succeed, Victoriously!

I am the residue from death's collapse.
Sticky mess from what is left of me.
Shattered pieces upon the floor.
In the pits of trail I laid crying out for help
begging for life to rescue me from your daggers that pierced my side with no mercy.
You showed no mercy
so I spare no laughter
While you think I succumb to your violence,
I have risen like a Falcon,
unashamed of the residue left behind me
sticking a sword in your back
to show others what a warrior
I Am!

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Late Night Inspiration featuring Goapele

This song will touch your heart if you are still pushing for your dreams to manifest this year.
I don't care if the clock is ticking. It is still 2015 and I'm not leaving without my miraculous breakthrough and blessings.


One more push (crime fiction) pt. 3

She lay on the cold floor from hitting each step on her way down. Blood covered her and a Band-Aid couldn't protect this blood from leaking. Each spill of it stained her carpet. Her walls where no longer white. Her body laid helpless. The floor washed over with red and bruises began to join the fiasco.

She laid with no hope, her breathe kept leaving her lips, and she grasped to remain controlled while her life slipped. She had never felt lead pierce within her skin to dine with her flesh and then leave to discover more of her body parts daring to leave her without her last breath. She never smelled the smell of the smoke from the rush of shots rushing to her body with no warning to stop and turn the other way. The gun, once pressed, had no apologies, did not stick around for empathy and didn't care who it effected once it left its chambers. She had visible holes that mysteriously didn't reveal that she wasn't whole and complete.

She laid believing that this is it so she had no need to scream to release a vibration for a cry for help. She probably would have cried out if the murderer would have given her a chance by leaving the door open for someone to pick up on the signal, no, she shut the door behind her, taking her time not to be afraid of what she had done. She had laid her burdens of weight upon her victim to walk away beaming in her victory with the opportunity to see the sun that reminded all that a new day had come.

She left her hopeless because the moon lit the sky but she laid by no window to receive its light to let her know that she can get back up again. She laid by the shut doors that she frequently knew. She laid with her own soul that wouldn't let her go and fear stood over ready to show its ugly face, but this time she dared not close her eyes, one more tear needed to escape, and when it did, she took her last breath and cried no more.

As she lay within her thoughts that looked like purgatory, she witnessed a small voice minister unto her and said, "One more push." She would not listen to the hypocrisy that came along after she had given her last wave of the white flag. She dared to argue, "Where were you before my eyes witnessed an unapologetic stranger with no reason why to take my life?" Where were you, huh," her anger still living with her mind serving her with doubt as the voice dared not give up on the child that He knew possessed a great future, "One more push." "I can't," she said as doubt held her hand and sadness laid over her body sinking into the open wounds. "You can and you will."

Her eyes immediately shot open and the light left in the room caught her eye and the cries where released out of her voice, and the strength that remained pressed her to press through as she scooted her body across the floor as she began to feel every pain her body offered and she saw her phone lay next to Vogue and with all her might she reached for her promised land, dialed a 9 then a 1, and another 1 to follow and as soon as she heard a voice she cried with a loud roar, "HELP!"

One more push (crime fiction) Pt. 2

She couldn't leave the smell of the perfume scents featured within the pages that gave her a breath of fresh air each time she would allow herself to witness its beauty, but her belly really wouldn't keep quiet for her to remain indulged in her one acceptance into the world she craved to be in. She had to go and prepare her something to eat.

She slowly placed her magazine down and dared to keep blind to her sight, but she was needing her daily fix into her reality. She felt as if the clocked ticked louder there and she was married to routine that beat her whenever it had its chance. Routine had its way with her, and the only time she could be free is by being still.

She entered her kitchen, and stared at the legs that stared back at her, and she asked herself, "Boiled or baked, fried or sautéed, hmm." So many choices that she had tasted all before. She could feel herself wanting to skip dinner and stay within the editorial skies of zero limits and to discover something new, even though she opened, carefully, don't let it get old pages of her drug of choice.

Her vegetables she had witnessed before. The same colors and textures fought for her attention. She dared to say not today, but she lacked the ingredients to try something new. "Okay, I can do this," she said. She thought that this time she would have to endure the fist of routine again but what it didn't know that she was numb to the chaos, and a true change was about to occur.

She cleaned her dishes and took in the scent of bleach and her hands endured the pain of hot water, but she actually enjoyed the stains being removed so fast that she welcomed the injury of the burns. She had her pots boiling with water and she sliced the cabbage and prepared the olive oil to go in after she placed in the cabbage. She decided to bake her chicken today and place bar-b-que on it, sweet honey. She cleaned the 20 day old pan that sat within the refrigerator that she kept putting off till she couldn't take not fixing a golden batch of cornbread and wheat bread just will not do when the cabbage is ready to be eaten. "Ouch," she said. The knife had moved across her flesh and she saw red. The blood was leaving what once covered it and she needed to aid her pain.

As she searched within her medicine cabinet for an antibiotic and Band-Aid, she heard her front door shut. "Hello, is anyone there," she wasn't expecting anyone? "Shoot," but she did forget to lock her door. She walked out of her room to enter back unto the stairs to go into her kitchen, but she couldn't past her second step before her eyes met a stranger who masked herself and wore all black. She lost all words as she stared at a gun pointing towards her. Her body froze and her voice abandoned her. She heard the first shot, but didn't remain awake to witness anymore.

America's Next Top Model


One more push-Short Story (crime fiction) Pt. 1

She sat reading the pages of Vogue, scanning through images that had no words.

She took in every scent upon the crisp new pages as she embraced the clear colors of a new adventure into the life and style of what could be, but she dare not leave the fashion bible without inspiration to help her improve her wardrobe and to learn what new styles could work together as her intelligent eyes went lurking throughout the images beaming on the next possibility of trends she will sat.

She had come to love fashion when all she owned was a Barbie-sketch toy that her mother purchased at a garage sale. It had become her world and she couldn't imagine leaving fashion to entertain the notion of even being a mom. She kept her secret passion hidden within the walls of her mind and she made sure she protected her dream from the destruction of her childhood that cling to destroy her before she reached her rebellious teens.

She did not sit with coffee, but since the leaves were transforming but the sun still song a morning tune and shined with the sting of the day, her choice of drink was still the soul of summer: lemonade. She had just learned to make a batch of its sweet goodness and couldn't imagine why she had never chosen to drink from her own creativity once before, but she didn't dwell on her past choices instead she took in her moment alone and stayed refresh with her meditative state of witnessing who got their spread and what talents they possessed to keep her intrigued without uttering a word.

It seemed as if nothing could be bothering her. Her life viewed as the perfect set-up for happiness and a well-balanced life but she did not read Vogue for enjoyment, instead it was her escape from the madness that her life had brought her too. She would go deep into the pages that she would envision herself into an entire new world where everything for her was the way she saw herself, but as she continued to flip each page and dine in with culinary tastes that may show up from time to time, her belly sat rumbling and she wondered what meal would satisfy her taste buds that longed to travel to far countries just to witness an experience upon her tongue. Chicken seemed to be the cheapest meal to prepare and she was not able to afford anything else, and she was running out of ways to taste its white and dark meat.

She not only had to face the pain of being hungry and eating just couldn't satisfy her need for change, she also just shed miles of tears from having to lay her pride down and face the reality that she just wasn't where she desired to be. Even the remembrance of her having to ask her mother or father for a dime to escape another month of bills being due let a tear slip every time. She wanted to be in her vision, reality stole her joy, and she knew she had to visit when clocks struck before 5pm, and the calendar would change the date to the first. She was often reminded that she wasn't there yet, and each time she tried to lift upon her feet it seemed as if she was being knocked back down.

Fear sat next to her as she read, but she dared not look over to it because she knew it had nothing new to share and if it did she didn't want to see it. The magazine could not cover her enough without her glimpsing to the interior room she had to call her living space as only pictures sat on her wall of what she wanted her life to be. The stray jacket lay awake for her arrival but she just couldn't take the notion of losing her mind. Her will power cling to her heart and soul, and deep down inside she really wanted to be alright and witness the other side of life. Could she one day rise to not sink again?

from Oracle Fox


Friday, September 18, 2015

Finding my way through Love by Matasha Lee

We need love like the echo of our last breath
longing for the touch of a heart that ease the weeping
and carry the burden so the load will not be as heavy.
Must one watch the suffering one
and walk by without a look to caress the weariness
that one's heart has gained.
Must we lose our compassion
in a mad world that refuses to acknowledge
that we are all one.
Oh, Lord, ease my mind and heart
that compassion eases each wound within
that I learn to be silent
when I can use my war of words
to destroy.
Father God,
I know you desire us to seek forgiveness like
we use our breath to breathe,
to shower our fellow brothers and sisters with grace.
I know I am not always capable to shut the storm
that rages in my mind
from the dishonesty that I have collected
like dust
and sometimes I can use that
collateral damage
to hurt another
but God, full of merciful love
you do not turn your back on me
and I must choose to do the same
if I dare to witness your glory in my life.
Let me not be ashamed of
leaving my troubles in your hand
even if the words of another
feel like whips to my back.
I have to understand you are my provider
and you will meet every last one of my needs
because of Your love you do not deny me.
You teach me your ways and humble me to learn,
so when one seeks love they will look to me
and through my kindness
I can show  them the way to you.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

The Heart vs. The Mind pt.2 by Matasha Lee

The Heart vs. The Mind pt.2 by Matasha Lee

 There is a war going on, a battle inside of me
That begs for attention.
In my mind, I am a prisoner
But in my heart
I am full of light.
I radiate with a remarkable glow
But my mind is the dark cloud
That refuses to let my heart shine.
I beg, plead, command and direct
My thoughts to obey me
But it laughs at me
As if I have no control or say so
Over who I am
And why I matter.
My heart weeps at my weakness to my mind
I dare to look away from its sorrow
But can't.
I am trapped at the need of me
To speak up
Take up for you
So we can live the best life possible.
I beg to try
My eyes flutter with pain
I can't see to get a grip
While I attempt not to lose all control.
I sit in darkness,
Each time repairing my light
Praying it doesn't go out.
It flickers on and off
As my mind pays attention to when I will be happy again
Only to drag me into a thought
That I'm not as happy as I need to be
And like a drug I am addicted to the downward spiral
Of losing all hope to gain
In return.
My body is at war.
I deserve balance.
I deserve peace.

My thoughts (no title)

I do not have to go into the past
To represent the story I desire to tell,
No, the story unfolds before me
And I can't seem to bare the sight
With eyes filled with the sea's complaint.
I ask myself how can I sit and not do a thing?
Was it for me to witness history repeat itself
So, I too can be proven that I can't do anything to stop it.
How can you watch a child wash upon the shore
And a dad go insane to watch his child slip away
Just to escape the madness of what was once considered home
And not show compassion,
But as they face their war
We face our repeat and I feel like I'm in a room spinning.
When the civil rights movement began to boom
And men and women fought for their rights,
Did they have to witness other's tear down their truth
To represent another truth like today!
We know that all lives matter but yet when you turn on the tv,
Enter into a comment section you easily remember that is a lie,
So in defense someone decided to point out that wait let's highlight the lives that need protection like black lives,
But watch the anger that sits and wait for someone to be proud
And remind them they aren't anything and to remember that,
But this isn't an easy crowd to silence
So they overshadow their truth
With another truth that isn't the same war,
So nothing changes
We just have layers and layers of pain,
Nothing being resolved while the screams of justice is weakened
And people rather stand for fifteen minutes of fame
Then to actually heal one another.
But foolery gets more ratings so let the cameras keep rolling!
Ignorance joins the table to eat
While history continues to repeat.

By: Matasha Lee 

Shallow Water by Matasha Lee

Shallow Water by Matasha Lee

Okay, I can do this, let's go!
I'm ready.
I know everything will work out.

Okay, focus, you still got this,
They said you will get rejected,
Dang, that did knock me out a little bit,

But, I can get back up again.
I got this

Wait, okay, maybe I should take another route.
Yeah, I will go this way,
Wow, there are more doors shut here!

God, am I doing the right thing?
Congrats, oh, you got signed today?
Wow, you made $5000 in one day?
I don't think I should focus on my dreams.
I need a job!

Okay, Father forgive me,
I had a weak moment
It won't happen again,

Shit, it happen again,
Bills pilling up,
Kids in need,
They hungry,
Should I keep going?
Oh, you got a new job today,
Wow, is that your new car!
You doing good.

I can't take it anymore
It seems like everyone is making it but me.

You were standing at the shore
When you gave up!
One more step you would have arrived.
You got bent out about what you saw and forgot why you started the journey
In the first place.
You just,
3 feet
When you survived the high waves
Long, sleepless nights,
Nothing put in your path way destroyed you,
But as soon as the storm calmed
You threw up your hands,
And drowned in shallow water.

She needs me by Matasha Lee

She needs me

She fell through the cracks of abandonment
No one understood the way she expressed herself
With screaming and tantrums
From the pressure of her voice
Being restricted and violated.
She attempted,
She tried to make sense of the world
Her life made her dance within,
Spin, twirl,
Show off your smile and
Pretty dresses.
You are so pretty
Yet they deny the scars painted
Upon her skin like art
They hid her circumstances well
Her mask became conformity.
She weakened under the lack of love she received
Even pain pitied her as she would cry herself to sleep.
She felt helpless, but she always drifted into hopelessness.
She waited to grow up to see if the world would be a better place.
If pain actually goes away.
If the Monsters in her closets
Do die.
She grew up to be me,
So I take on the I
In our relationship.
I repair every piece that was broken.
I comfort every hurt she attempted to fix.
I love her for us.
She isn't forgotten.
Her dreams isn't forgotten.
Her love grows in me.
God has secured us both.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Fear by Matasha Lee

Fear by: Matasha Lee

Fear kept me bound
Boundless to achieve more than
My hand could reach.
Even though I would be brave enough
To accept the journey of pursuing my dreams
I would disqualify myself when I got there
Caring too much about the technique
And not enough about my ability to perform.
I would say words like, "I don't even suppose to be here;
Why am I here?"
Knowing I drove forty minutes to an hour to arrive on time
With every bag packed.
I didn't need to understand
What I needed to do was show up
Because it was my chance,
My glance to see that little girl within me
Because I did not let her down,
No, her feet doesn't touch the ground
Because my efforts has cause her to soar.
But I caused the cosmic universe
To turn against me
Because my energy floated more down stream
And before I could think about swimming it was all gone from me
And I can say that it didn't hurt me
But the pain of falling can never be hidden.
Recently, I had to admit that I am ashamed
Because I held the gun
To kill my dreams,
I was the cost for the state Im in,
But now as a victorious lion ruling his jungle,
I scream to the heavens,
Make me over,
I am ready!
Silence my mouth from believing
That I too don't deserve a chance.
I am great and powerful because of the mighty,
He is in me, and I in He,
That is why I can conquer what seems
To be impossible.
Giant slayer, I AM,
And in Him,
I can do all things.
Christ came to switch places with me,
His abundance
For my rags,
Let not His death to resurrection
Be in vain!

Monday, July 27, 2015

is God only given to the poor? By Matasha Lee

Is God only given to the poor?

I always wondered was the poor given God,
And is that all we get.
Are we not allowed anything, but prayer?
Do the rich have to pray or is it a necessity?
Do they only have to shout when they feel like it?
Or, must they worship,
And if not will they go unpunished
With lack and poverty?
Will they be scorned for not paying tithes?
Will there lights suffer, water, car?
Will they be blamed for having babies out of wedlock
Or publically humiliated.
Will they need baptism to cleanse them from the filth of their sin
Or do their money wash it away.
Is our faith the same?
Are we awarded the same opportunities?
When I go to events, the religious ones are always there,
When I lack they are there,
Reminding me to get saved,
Come to
Is two baptisms not enough?
Why do you make the poor feel unworthy of His love?
If my bank account is empty I must be doing something wrong.
How can I tithe with not enough money to put on a card?
With not enough money to start an account with and keep it active?
Why is it the same amount of churches, liquor stores,
And loan locations in the same community,
All trying to give a quick way out,
A little moment of high,
And then you come back down
Only to realize ain't nothing changed.
You still hungry,
You still lonely,
And you still ain't worth shit,
But where is your faith?
Hmm, let me see:
I sowed into you,
But where is the opportunity,
The change,
The chance,
I guess it doesn't come from you.
God will provide for me
Like I provided you.
You will collect while my bellies rumble.
College will be rewarded to your children
Their bright future covered,
But Im still waiting on one day.
This will be my year.
But, I tried, I pushed,
I really thought this was it, but yet I failed,
I cried, now, Im back in line,
Sowing every penny I have just for a ray of hope
That it will be next year.
Yes, next year, will be my chance.
2016, here I come,
Without a change in my hand.
I'm trying,
I am, but what do you do when you knock on the door of opportunity
And it will not answer,
And yet, you are having to change who you are,
Just to receive a buck,
The face in the mirror
You no longer recognize.
Not only am I rewarded God but now, I must serve a devil too.
Blame him for all your problems and misfortunes.
The devil did it.
He isn't allowing my car to start.
The devil did it.
He won't allow that man to love me.
The devil did it.
He peaked into my future and said,
I must stop her because she is going to be someone today.
Never blame those who don't care enough to change to have policies in place to balance out the wealth in the economy.
Never blame the man responsible for not taking care of his responsibilities,
Never blame the friend for choosing to walk away.
Because I must believe that the devil did it,
That God will see me through.
He gave us all the capability to change things.
Why should He get involved?
How about taking responsibility to change the direction of the world
And quit handing the poor God with a pamphlet,
And only one color face on it.

Do you see what I see? By Matasha Lee

Do you see what I see? Pt. 1

Damn, the ignorance,
Can they not see
That police brutality has risen,
Too high of a mountain to climb,
But when I turn on the news
The media spills out lies
Blame it on the community,
The lack of fathers,
It was good they were killed
At least we got another thug off the street.

Let me bring you down,
Where is the shrinking Ray
Because obviously
You don't understand how things work below,
Take a walk with me,
I'll let you know.
This is the corner where they slang drugs,
He is an entrepreneur that has given up
On doing the right thing,
He sells fake rock or the real,
He is only 16,
But he has a family to feed,
See, he's a man, now,
He has to carry the weight
Because his daddy is gone,
Left them all alone,
Or, No longer the beatings
His momma could take.
So, I got us today,
Deep in the night,
He creeps hoping to sell one rock to get something to eat,
I promised my little sister some candy,
Boy, will she be proud of me,
He only wants to make enough money to get out of the game
Before he winds up six deep.

She just moved into town,
No one she knows,
Insecure girl with a frown,
But she just turned legal,
Who do I hang with now,
What type of crowd
Do I dodge,
Hey cutie,
Ooo, that guy thinks I'm cute,
Wow, look at how they look at me,
The guys back home
Thought I was filth
They would run away from me,
Call me names,
In my hometown
I was bullied,
But it seems things have changed here
So many guys like me.
She finds her friends
Who send her into the world of fast life and secrets.
She hangs with her and some more guys,
Doing what teens do,
They not over 21,
Naw, girl,
Okay, good.
She sits with a shy face
As she watches all these guys stare at her flesh.
She finally finds someone she would like to meet,
They exchange smiles and names,
Until jealousy comes in and calls her name,
Psss, come here,
She looks away,
Psss. Come here,
Not today, she finally caves in,
Only to be dragged by screams,
Pulled into a room,
Where he tries to take off her clothes,
She calls her friends name but no one hears her so,
She screams again,
Someone make it stop,
Please don't go within,
Finally, the door opens,
She runs away,
She was almost raped today,
Her friend tells her to keep it down,
You don't want us to get in trouble,
Silence your pain,
Bury it six feet deep,
Till it goes away.

Oh mother,
Oh brother,
What do I do,
There is levels in poor ness
And I'm trying to reach the top you see
But I don't want to be a fraud
Cashing illegal checks
So I can have the latest
Rockin with the best,
A weekend of fun,
Until Monday come
And there is a warrant out for my arrest,
Or let's go in the store,
You watch out,
Why I hit the floor,
Make sure you grab that shirt right there,
Oh, boy, will say, I'm the fliest,
They walk out the store,
All brave,
Till the cops have stopped their tracks
Hope it isn't 50 over.
Oh mother
Oh brother
Or, should I sell my soul,
Wait, how much it's worth.
This guy promised me,
I will be his number one girl,
But I have to sell my body in exchange,
Hell naw, no way,
No, wait, how much did he say?

Momma, don't work yourself to a bone,
Brother, don't kill yourself, so,
Sister, sister, child support will let him know,
Daddy, daddy, I need you so,
The lights are out,
No tv, no hope.
The water is off,
Over a family member's house
I go.
I just want to run and hide from the pain I see,
Make it out, somehow,
Do you see what I see?

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Seasons by Matasha Lee pt. 1

Even the seasons
Are nicer to those
Who have
Those who have not!

In the winter
Days consisting of snowboarding
And snow mans
Christmas plans
And Holiday recitals
Smells of baked cookies
And roasted ham
Turkeys within the oven
Lights upon each house
Schools are closed because of the snow storm
Children go out
In their winter
Attire to play

In the winter
Stress is high
Let my faith be strong
Because I can't pay the lights
And that is another night within the cold
But let me be grateful
That we can gather together
On the floor
Or mattresses
With our un matching sheets
And spreads.
There aren't any lights
I hope my neighbor will be so kind
To let me warm up some food
Or that I will receive a ride to the store
So, we can order off the dollar menu
The younger ones can share.
In the morning,
The little ones cry,
I want to play in the snow
The mother sends her kids out with socks upon their hands,
And blind eyes turned from the holes in the coats
Christmas season strips pride
And humility must sat in
To stand in the long lines
Your kid can receive a Christmas surprise.
It may not be what he or she desires
But that is when you must believe in Santa
The most
Because you are the target this year
People are in the giving cheer
It is the time
When they give
And it makes them feel
You know you will eat
Some type of meal
Because the Christians
Can't wait to deliver you from your sin,
Winter is here again,
And poverty,
I cannot hide.

Mad World By Matasha Lee

Mad World by: Matasha Lee

Conversations under the bridge to get away from the scorcher
Of the sun
That has awakened to kill and destroy those who cannot hide from its light
The one who goes blind by the sight of its shine
He awakes afraid of the sun
As he scavenges to feed his today
And that mother that must walk miles just to feed her children
Is praying to her invisible God that He will cover her
So the sunlight will not burn her so,
As the others hopes he or she will reach water soon
For that light drains all the energy out his or her body
Leaving only a heat stroke or fainting spells in its path.

On the other side of town
The one dressed in black and white
That reached the day before the sun came to shine
That may have walked early enough to not feel it's sting
And watch the wimps form from the scratching of the skin,
Opens blinds
Because it's employer
Likes for the natural light to shine into the room
Over here
The sun is a necessity
They paid
For their house to sit on the hill
So the sun can shine through
They can know
It is morning time
The sun gives out
Just enough light
The person in the black and white
Opens the blinds
Just right
So it beams on their skin
But doesn't damage the eye
It is a sun kissed glow
And the bodies within the bed
Arise with an ahhh,
Claiming it to be
Such a refreshing day

And within that moment
Both the rich and the poor meet
The poor sniffs the purified air
From its blistered hand
Of cleaning all night long
And tries to take in the positivity of awaking to a new day.
The sun is kinder to him or her
At this moment
When it appears
The landscapes
Of crisp blue skies
Pastures of green grass
Trees that stand tall
Flowers swaying in the wind
Water flowing freely upon the river banks,
All seem to smile
When the sun appears.
Tears form in the eyes
Of the employed
One day
The sun would be as kind
To them.
That they too will one day
Wake up
Without having to force a smile
And the morning dew is a blessing
And not just a reminder of
It is just another day.

Until then
Because all stories are continually unfolding
We must witness
A mad world.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Tug-A-War by Matasha Lee Let the Games begin

Tug-a-War by Matasha Lee

Let the games begin,

Um, I don't think I'm ready to play this game,

Here are the rules,

Are you listening,



Opponent 1:

Everyone deserves a chance.
We should be kind to everyone.
Generosity is key.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Don't we all deserve a chance on love.
Don't you agree

Okay, Come on, Opponent 1, pull as hard as you can,
Get her to agree with you,

Isn't that what life suppose to be like,
To love and cherish one another,

Opponent 2,


No, that isn't what life is all about.
You have to go out there and get yours,
Rather they like it or not.
It is either, you or them?
You have to choose who it will be,
And you know it can't be you.
Treat them cruel that is the only way
They will love you.
People love when you don't give a fuck about them.

I don't wanna play any more.
I get it,
Let me go.
The game isn't over,
You have to choose a side,
But you know what happen last time you were too nice,
You almost lost everything,
And Opponent 2, can be right
(Opponent 2: thank you)
You're welcome, but you don't want to end up alone.

Where is the balance?
I'm tired of being punished for caring,
Then punish for not.
I need help.
Stop pulling me,
I can't be apart of your tug of war.
I can't play these games.

Who do you choose?

I, I,
I can't

Speak up

I said I can't
It hurts so bad
To do right,
To break into your no,
And pull out a yes,
To give your all,
And to the receiver
It isn't good enough.
I don't want that pain back,

I don't want to be bitter and cold,
So, cold,
No one dares approach me,
So cruel that I have no understanding or compassion
For my fellow man!

I don't know!

Opponent 1 & 2,
This is your chance,
Persuade her.


I choose neither.
I choose to learn a better way,
By emptying and opening myself up
To spiritual guidance
Of gaining a different path.

Love still works! ❤️❤️❤️

The Beauty of my Soul by: Matasha Lee/Beauty Lee

The Beauty of my Soul:


Have you hit something yet?

No, you need to go deeper.

How deep, we are barely seeing daylight,

It is so dark down here.

You have to go deeper.

Beep, beep,

Right there, stop, right there,

They have hit the mark,

I have never desired to reveal these truths,

Ugly truths,

I'm afraid,

Not just afraid

But look around,

Look at the laughs I've missed,

My dreams,

That one,

That one was suppose to be one of the best days of my life,

But I backed out,

Convinced myself to walk away,

I am ashamed,

But since you have dug so far to reach me,

Spent years discovering me,

My masks I can no longer hide.

I have not seen myself in a wedding dress,

Nor have I tried one on,

When I do,

The vision is blurry,

It is so lonely in my heart,

People come to chat,

But they leave,

And my little cottage is empty with memories.

I keep all photos packed away in my heart.

Boxes still fill my home after years.

I'm saddened by the sight,

But I know I'm not at home,

I'm traveling through,


I wish I wasn't so invisible,

I wish you could see all of me,

But treasure must be found,

Not revealed by scavengers

Looking for a days worth of meal.

For, your reward for discovery the deepest, darkest parts of me,

Is nothing,


You do something with it,

Until then,


We will see,

Shall we.

Is there more,


But are you ready to go where the light refuses to shine,

Where beauty is not seen by the eye,

But stained by the ridicule of past mistakes,

Can you handle that part of me?


Isn't she amazing,

I've never seen anything like it

What will you do with her?

I'm going to bring her story to life.

Okay, gather it all up,

Let's go back up,

Beep, beep!

No more masks!

By: Beauty Lee

Sunday, July 5, 2015

This too shall pass by: Matasha Lee

This too shall pass by matasha Lee

Yes, I see the clouds.

Does that mean a storm is coming?

Yes, but what are you afraid of?

I don't know,

It seems as if when the storms of life are raging

That is when I get hit the most,

And that last blow 😔

I don't know if I can take it anymore.

Haven't you survived before?

Yep, but,

Well, you can survive again.

Life didn't knock you out to count you out.

It gave you a gift through pain,

What will you do with the gift that is wrapped up as depression and anxiety.

We only suffer because we have surface vision.

We never allow ourselves to go deeper,

But when life knocks you out and you fall,

You can't help but to catch root of the ground.

You do not get up so fast because you discover the gift within it all,

To discover yourself,

Or awaken to your gifts and talents.

How beautiful are you when you rise above adversary and choose to be the light in a dark place.

That's you, you are a radiant, manifestation of God's awesome power manifested on earth.

How can you not survive?

I guarantee you, you will,

And, you will look back on this, proud that you showed forth His glory,

And didn't let life defeat you. 

Grown Men Do Cry by: Matasha Lee

Grown Men do cry by Matasha Lee

He looked out at his life and he didn't like the vision

He was afraid of the sight.

He saw chaos made by his own hands

And realized he was the monster that prevented himself from enjoying the best of life,

He cried.

His tears distracted him from ever feeling his feet move to that destined place.

Life came to carry him,

But his pride got in the way.

I am a man.

You can't carry me.

You can't lift me up out of this dark place.

You can't tell me everything will be okay.

When I fall I must pick myself up,

You can't give me a helping hand.

Tragedy beat his eyes,

And scars weighed his back like shattered wounds of glass from the reflection of hope he once could see.

Life beat him down,

And he lost his faith

(But truth is, it was planted in the ground)

He discovered days of loneliness that almost made him lose his mind,

But life swept back through again,

And lifted him off the ground,

Like a child kicking and screaming,

He defended his right to do it himself.

But, this time life no longer listened to his whine,

Life placed him at the hands of mercy

And he weeped like a woman travailing.

I, I have no words to say,

I never thought I would see the throne of grace.

Why would you allow me into your presences?

Have you not seen what I have done?

The pain that I have caused.

The tears that I have pushed out of my fellow man.

My hands caused pain,

Why do you touch them so?

My grace is sufficient enough to cover your multitude of sin.

You haven't done so much wrong that I will not love you,

But I thought heaven wasn't meant for a man like me.

I prepared my bed for hell,

In the fiery flames I must lay.

There isn't such a place,

But in your mind did you strike so,

For since you believed in hell,

You created hell for everyone else,

But what good is it for me to give you hell when you die if that is all you have ever experienced.

I will give you heaven on earth.

Help you see the beauty of me.

Go and find your faith that's buried in your pain,

Feel sorry for yourself no more,

For I have provided you with just enough faith to help you see your way out of this dark place, but first, you have to move, you have to confront what you are afraid the most.

When you are ready,

The mirror awaits.

Monday, June 15, 2015

I'm not dead: Ms. Carolyn story

I often walk to the park at our sister town-homes right next to where I live so my children can play and I can watch the sun set. It is quieter on that side of town and it is like my children and I have a playground to ourselves. They laugh and play, sometimes, my son and I throw the football.

Lately, I've been meeting up with a woman named Carolyn. A truly unashamed woman about her life, her skin, and her beauty. She is one tough cookie with a story to tell. I don't know how many people she have told her story too but I wish to tell the world, or at least whomever will listen. How many of us can say we survived death? Yes, the rare few can admit that they died and came back to life, but her story is different. How about the doctor pronouncing you dead but you a hear everything he is saying, not only that but you wonder who he or she is speaking about. Is he or she talking about me? Can't be because I'm not dead.

Her story of courageousness when the doctor told her mother that she was dead will move any heart. She told me she had to move something to let them know she wasn't dead. She did just that and was able to move her hand across her face, if that isn't God, then who is it? She will tell you that she knows a man, you see. Yes, she says that every time she speaks on it. It sends chills down her spine.

Oh, how I want to know if I'm going about life wrong when I hear her story. She told me we can only take life one moment at a time. You only get that moment, that you can walk around the corner and be dead so you have to appreciate life.

I desire to speak to her about dreams and goals, but her view is satisfaction, she isn't a worrier. Her mind is totally made. She tells me she needs two things: her cigarettes and Folger's coffee, black.

I know from her story that she is a mother, friend, sister, daughter, but most of all, she is herself. You will catch her walking around the neighborhood enjoying her day. She likes when others walk with her or she just walk by herself. I didn't want to tell her story, I wanted her own words to flow.

Ms. Carolyn can tell it, better than I can.

"It started as an headache when I went to the hospital,
But a vein busted in my head.
My mom was hollering about her baby.
"I'm not the baby, you see."
I was trying to figure out who my mom was calling baby.
(Her mom reassured her that she is the baby.)
I was sad that I had lost my hair.
I was trying to get up, and hadn't realized that I was dead.
I just wanted to see my mama.
I had to let her know I wasn't dead.
So, I moved my hand, and they told my mom, I wasn't dead."

Ms. Carolyn carries her story in her pocket wherever she goes, ready to inspire someone throughout her daily walk that doesn't believe in the power of God.
She will not push her story on you,
But when she thinks about what he's done for her, this is usually how the conversation will start, "I know a man, you see. When the doctors said I was dead, I wasn't. Thank ya!" She isn't short of praising him and sending up His glory.
Her story constantly reminds me that no matter how dead the situation may feel or seem, it isn't over till God says it's over.

How strong is your determination and dedication when everyone has counted you, said that you will never make it? Does your situation look like dry bones that needs life spoken over it? Ms. Carolyn didn't let, even, death stop her from getting out of the place where she had been counted out. That one testimony she holds on too.

She has gone on to have children and grandchildren.
She still walks the paved concrete of Tiffany Square and Heather Lane.
She has a story to tell and is not ashamed to tell it.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Watered Garden by Matasha Lee (poetry)

Watered garden

The rain was no match for the tears she cried.
The flooded nights of despair.
Tossing and turning her body as if the tug of war occurred in her sleep,
Defenseless to the act of the mighty hand of anguish and anxiety that crept in every now and then to rob her of her joy.
Weeds, unfruitable to the ground from which her feet bled from the daily miles of trying to find herself again.
Will her tears work?
Could she cry a river that would lead her to the lost treasures of her soul?
Will her love ones so kindly greet her on the other side?
To feel love, oh, how she missed it.
The coolness of the morning with the trickle of dew upon her face to refresh the redness that cluttered her eyes,
She would look out into yesterday and glance at what use to be and listen to the screeching of the chained swing rock back and forth, and see herself laughing and playing,
Free from the cares of the world,
But she knows she can't go back to floral skirts and ruffle socks.
She can't find freedom in what use to be.
She continues in hope that one day her dreams will become of fruition and her life will balance out to fit her new idea of beauty and manifest into the sun beaming a new day in the sky.
She sits by the riverside still eyes filled with tears not knowing that she has created a path to her own promise land.
Cry on my dear.
My ears of compassion hears your weeping song.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Love of Basketball written by Matasha Lee

Love of basketball

Put a court up and you will see the love for connecting manifest and no it will not be all hugs and fair game, but you can best believe they will meet again the next day to share the game together. Bounce, bounce is the sound people here when they pass, rather it is the girls going by to eye the guys on the court or the girl suited and booted ready to show her talents off and prove that girls are just as good as guys, or maybe you are that parent who drives by to show your concern and love for your child, but he doesn't want you out there because it will be too embarrassing to see you cheering or screaming, but know that he appreciates you. He loves to see your car pass by. Yes, the game lives on from dust till dawn, and at night the big brother teaches his little brother or sister a few skills and in those moments he is the greatest player that ever existed. See, the love starts on the court and ends up in the schools. You don't have to have a goal before the love begins, a trash can will do, office trash can or tin can. You can have a goal in your room, on the side of the house, or your local park. The game starts with one with its invisible defense or as many players to fill the court. Two on two or the old fashion one on one will do. Friends and enemies gather together on the same court to rival each other and sometimes blood will spill from the bows of the aggressive player or hugs will be given when your team wins by one. Many dream to go the NBA and maybe make a living playing the game he or she loves. The love never dies. The ball never stops bouncing. Each player will dribble again, no matter the age.

Silent Treatment written by Matasha Lee inspired by God

Silent Treatment

Why is God silent when I am in the most turmoil? 
It is like, hey, God, I'm crying here.
I need you.
Can you help me please?
Nothing, just pure silence.
Who is going to defend my disappointment? 
I need someone.

For the past days, probably the entire week I have experienced God's silence.
I cry out to Him to speak to me, but I receive nothing.
I am like, God, which way to go?
God, am I making the right decision,
It is really sad to desperately need someone and you hear nothing.

I wondered why for so long.
My thoughts weren't simple.
I literally felt like I was doing wrong.
I couldn't understand.
I resulted to negativity. 
I should have looked at it more positive, 
But dealing with silence isn't the best fun, but

I have learned that when God is silent, 
I must do the same and be still. 
Arrest my thoughts and cover my mouth. 
Let myself get to a place of complete and utter silence.

This is what He is teaching me, Be still!
If you can't be still in the midst of chaos, you will become a part of the problem, as a matter of fact, you may contribute more to the madness than you expect.

So, you see, silence isn't a bad thing at all.
Silence is the place where you learn and everything in you stops and everything around you keeps going. 

It is like moving through 635 traffic in the morning and yet being the car that doesn't move. You literally have people blowing and screaming at you telling you, "Get off the road, you maniac," and you refuse to move. Instead of reacting, you remain firm in your decision to stay still. (Until the cops come, but that is a different story)

My point is that God's silence is a way to let me know to be still. Let your mind be free and your heart not trouble. All is well. Yes, in the mist of chaos, all is well!