Where’s my Boxing Gloves! I’m Ready to Fight!

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" My Boxing Gloves!"

 POW! POW! SMACK!! Crack!

 Mrs. Cecily! All my life I had to fight! I had to fight my daddy; I had to fight my Momma! Isa Loves Harpo, God Knows I do, But I’ll Kill him dead before I let him beat me!” – Color Purple….

Now I will make this quick as I learn over my life that I need to always fight! I am tired of the battle ground of despair never able to understand why I’m even there.  Can’t anyone help me; it’s a lonely fight… I always have to take out my glove to battle! People talking about me, and others wanting to do harm to me! POW!  Loneliness comes and goes in the midnight, trying to get that late night call…POW! WHEW!!!! I’m not done yet!!  Thoughts of Sucidue and death over whelm my soul…SMACK! Hurt of friendships broken with betrayal and dishonestly….CATHUMP! (Sorry I had to stomp that one)…… 

It doesn’t surprise me that I am always in a fight, like with that ugly girl when I was in kindergarten and she messed with my favorite doll. Now why did she go and do that because I am going to have to get with her to let her know you don’t touch my stuff! She wasn’t cute no way, so when she cried, it didn’t hurt my feelings, it just made me see that my fight had more power then I realized. But as I got home with a note in my bag from my teacher to my momma, that power was not the one I wanted to master because it released the gloves of momma to enforce a teaching of who really had the upper hand… OUCH! 

The gloves were in retirement in high school mainly.  I didn’t really have too much to fight there, except the stupid ignorant stuff that i actually chose to get in and not fight it at all. At home I fought with the gloves of “I’m a teenager and should be treated like one!” Now what that really means, I have no clue, cause I really thought those gloves were, ” I’m a teenager but should be allowed to do things with everyone else and be grown…sometime…with some stuff…”  Neither pair was a match to the once again, never defeated gloves of my momma. I lost every battle almost… well the ones that she actually wore them for.   

When I had the gloves in retirement at high school, that is when your curiosity takes over and at some point you want to see what all that is about. Then later you realize it’s all about NOTHING…lol. The gloves are placed over to the side and you allow things to just “happen”.  Now for me this began in high school and continued on to full bloom in college. The gloves had dust on them at this point. I’m just saying!!  It wasn’t till things seemed to be all going wrong and my fighting with my bare fist to try to get financially aid to work out, completely had no power and I was back home with the understand…. what am I going to do now? 

Now as an adult, the have been off and on… off here…. and off…there….SMH… and now more than ever before they must come out of retirement. They must be shined and finely fitted to my hands again to see if I still got the power to throw them boughs like I use to when I was strong and at the peak of my walk with Christ. I never will give up and I will not put them down again, will they hit my sides some times as my flesh arise, maybe….. I won’t lie I probably sometime they will… but I yet still hold on to them and will always know the power of the hit from my boxing gloves. So now, I’m ready to fight, and I know whose side wins in the end… Mines! 

*Duchy*

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