Life Was Laying On The Floor

Life was laying on the floor.
Would mine be anymore?
I didn’t know… no one knew,
But I couldn’t even move.
All I could do was breathe.
So afraid I was dying, about to leave.
I was so scared, so stuck.
Was my life running out of luck?

11-1994
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: my first time hyperventilating years ago.
I’m so thankful for God seeing me through those times.
Thank you, C.S.

Trapped In a Moment of Separation

Sweet sounds… music and the night.
It almost feels as if everything’s alright.
Is it?

Light tunes… a note and a little bass.
There’s nothing that could take your place.
Is there?

So many miles away… we lay alone,
Thinking of each other and talking on the phone.
Don’t we?

Honey… it’s just a matter of insecurity.
But that’s just not meant for you and me.
Is it?

I know you think of me… as I do you.
Spending time together, there’s nothing we’d rather do.
Is there?

Trapped in a moment of life… separation.
We hold on with hope, love, and desperation.
Don’t we?

7-26-1994 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: God loves and lives.

Second Date

Second date.. What does that mean?
Does that mean you want to go out with me again?
Or that you just want to be with me again?
Do you want to talk with me more?
Or do you just like my company?
There’s nothing wrong with both, but I thought I’d just ask.
Nosey little me, I was curious.
I’m wondering what it is that made you want to come up and talk to me,
But you’ve already given me a reason for that
And I believe you.
Why would you lie to me? Or would you?
You seemed very nice.
So what is it that you like?
Do you see something you want?
Could you be slightly interested in meeting more of me…
All of me?
There’s so much to know.
But then who needs to know everything?
Mysterious is a good quality for someone to hold.
Why shouldn’t I?
You’re something I should hold.
Or should I?
Should I want to?
What if I did? Would you care?
If I didn’t, would you dare?
It could be a game,
But then that would be a shame
Because you’re really nice
And unworthy of a price.
How could you place a value on someone so kind?
Are you not that kind of a person?
Who am I? What am I? And why am I to you?
Have you not yet seen or understood
How easily I am confused?

5-12-1994 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire

Demonic Virtues

There’s a beautiful struggle in a wicked love,
For a rebellious faith is a faithful heartache.

Hot ice, cold fire, death in sex.
You’re such a tasty venom.

Dying alive in your malicious kiss,
Your sweet blood is forever falling.

A wicked touch in such a deceptive friendship,
Such devious kindness

Within every one of your evil longings
I find such demonic virtues.

Yet within the shallow depth of your prison of freedom,
I’m shattered dreams.

A loving hate can be an aching pardon.
Your death is such a romance.

5-3-1994 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. This was written as a strong play on oxymorons to emphasize a strong struggle going on inside of life seeming to be nothing but a lot of things that just don’t make sense and simply should not be! The title itself are two words that just don’t belong together. I am so grateful that God’s love makes life make sense.

MOTHERS

Mothers…
The soul creation of GOD.
Man’s companion in life.
Bearer of his children.
Faithfulness as his wife.
A comforter to the souls
Of men and young children.
As Mary is given to Jesus,
So is His will now done.

The pure love and easing comfort,
A woman with a smile.
When a young man’s at war,
She’s with him across the miles.
Stand up, be glad, and rejoice.
Give respect to your mother.
A woman gave birth to you,
So that she may love another.

Embraced by a woman’s power
When you are insecure,
It has to be a mother
When you find you feel so sure.
GOD bless the Lord for love
And giving it through a mother.
Is far better than a friend
Or any betraying lover.

5-2-1994 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: writing for the campus paper

Essence of Rebellion

Your vile deception, your tangled blood,
Your demonic web defies my love.
Deny the skin, disgust my flesh.
Your devious betrayal tortures my chest.
Hatred in beauty, pain in romance,
The depth of your death is lanced.
For whatever injustice your evil liars escape,
A conceited traitor will be faithfully two-faced.
The essence of rebellion is pathetic,
But slain at the heart, I love it.

4-26-1994 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Creative Writing Class, Spring 1994
Taught by E.P.

Letter to Josephine Humphreys

Dear Josephine Humphreys,
Reading your novel excerpt brought me an image of a woman who is being used by her husband and doing nothing about it, except maybe taking it out on herself. I could see her laying in bed with her eyes closed, pretending she was asleep, as she listened to him dress and leave, and sometimes, when it was safe, opening her eyes, but not moving, or speaking, or anything, just listening and thinking. What pain this woman must be in to just lifelessly let her heart just slip away. It certainly must be routine, if she doesn’t move because she knows where he’s going. I have been in this situation with fiances, who were seeing my best friends. When you know there’s no proof and there’s nothing you can really do, you know you’re wasting your energy, energy you need to survive with while waiting on him to change, but knowing he will never change. I must let you know I feel for this woman, am angry at this woman, and understand this woman. I could defend her actions.
I sympathize with the woman when “she marvels at the single,” thinking of how “their bodies and clothing and cars are bright” and “they don’t have husbands in love with single girls.” and not only that, she is haunted by Claire, “the girl… who is lovely, whose teeth… eyelashes and hair shine,” and is “energetic.” It’s so easy to be intimidated by youth, beauty, and life, even when you have your own great qualities. This wife has every reason to feel down, but at the same time should at least defend herself. She does have the husband still in her house, her bed, her life, and the life of the children they conceived together. The mistress, Claire, has a job and great sex, that’s not a lot. That’s nothing compared to what the wife has. If there is one thing I’ve learned in life, it is to never let anyone take me down, especially someone who is intentionally hurting me. That is what Claire is doing, and giving up gives Claire an edge over the wife with insecurity, an edge that even the husband hasn’t given Claire because he’s still living at home with the wife and kids.
What surprised me at one point, was Will’s’ mother, Marcella. She knew, but didn’t confront her son. She even told the daughter-in-law first, as well as withheld it from her son that she knew, and that she told Alice. Usually, it is the precious momma’s boy that is confronted, to see if it’s a fling, if it’s trash, if she’s better than what he already has, or to simply find out just what’s going on. If the mother-in-law likes the wife, she usually doesn’t tell her (the wife) in hopes the couple will work it out, so the wife won’t leave. If she doesn’t, she usually keeps it to herself to give her son the room and freedom to play, to maybe fall in love again, get the mistress pregnant, or maybe to know something that her daughter-in-law doesn’t know about the husband, something that would only hurt the wife even more while the mother-in-law smiled. It was comforting to see this mother-in-law was honest with her daughter-in-law for good reasons, and trying to help her with encouragement.
This can be a major reason education is so important for a woman or a man. Though society paints a perfect picture of the “perfect marriage,” the “perfect family,” and the “American dream,” life teaches us reality, that there is no guarantee for no one man, woman, marriage, family, or soul. It is an education that gives us our skills and knowledge, as well as our personal growth, to support ourselves, so that we can survive the loss of our other half (our husband), our children, our lives (though we still have a whole new one waiting.) Education can be the key to getting past the heartache, helping pass the time, learning to start again, to rebuild, and to succeed. We can be shown we can make it on our own, that we have a lot offer us, not pain. This is something we can educate our children with as I do my son Anthoni.
I truly enjoyed your story and in the future would like to finish reading your novel, simply to see what happens, and how everyone feels when all is said and done. Compelling and enchanting, I am thoroughly moved by this simple small piece. It is an universal issue that all women, and yes, some men can relate to, being betrayed, by someone you love, someone you trust, and someone you gave your life to. May your days be filled with God, love, and beauty, and just in case this is a true story, if he (the husband) leaves, he’s an idiot, and you’re better off. You deserve better. If he stays, I told you, the mistress has nothing until he leaves. That is why he doesn’t leave because he knows she has nothing. Either way, you’re still a great woman regardless of what a man does to you. It doesn’t take a man to make you who you are, it only takes you. Only you can make it happen. Believe in yourself!

Thoughtfully and Sincerely Yours,
Gail Brookshire

4-15-1994 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Eng152 D1 Taught by L.J.