Tear-soaked pillowcase

So I’m bleeding and that means the veil is very thin

My mind racing faster than  my dark green pen

I keep having this one intrusive set of thoughts

It’s filled with you better kiss me and some kiss me nots

It’s simply put a memory of all my heart fluttering firsts

And the pain that can accompany them when being coerced

It was love for me  and a game for him

Since young love is blind, I “knew”’it was real

“Go ahead and kiss me by the locker room 

Cause if you don’t, someone else will soon”

Okay. Okay. But, I’ve never been kissed. 

I’ll cry a little to myself, then bite my lip

“Do it. Just do it. It’s just a little kiss, and if you don’t do it, you will regret it, there’s plenty of other girls, who want this”

“And you love me don’t you, then just go ahead, one little kiss won’t hurt, would you rather us end?”

Then a few weeks later, with his hand up my shirt, embarrassed and ashamed, but I better not speak my hurt. 

This will just make us closer, we’ve shared many moments intense and I’d rather do this, than let us  come to an end

Now onto his fingers,  exploring just under my belt and  then him taking my hand and placing it on himself. 

“See there, it’s not that scary, it’s not a big deal, we’ll figure this out, if only you will.”

Oh my God-I’m scared, what the fuck do I do, as he pushes my face to his waist and pulls my mouth to him  too

This isn’t right, I know my parents would be mad, but I’d rather let them down, then let him know I am sad

Okay. I guess I will, a new way to be close to know one another

Put the condom on, spread your legs, 

Hide our bodies under the covers

It wasn’t too much later, with a pillow-case soaked in tears

I wrote in my journal that losing him was one of my greatest fears

And by that time he had made it very clear

I was just a number, just a trophy 

It had never been sincere. 

And then the church had me believing my purity was my worth.

That a stain of blood between my legs was a sin of no reverse.

I’ve walked with eyes turned downcast

Had conversations with no eye contact 

Because my worth was tangled up

In that image and not my actual impact

I’m asking you now, on behalf of your daughters

Be vigilant in traversing these adolescent waters

And yes, even in the 6th grade, we have to stand strong

Say no and make them break up

When the coercion  game is going on

We must implement the boundaries when they’re so young they can’t. And that means we must talk to them to know exactly where they stand

Do they know 

Their  value is secure

Their identity is unshakable 

No one can take  away from them

What is unbreakable?

Are they aware that compromise is not always the best way

And sometimes being uncomfortable is all there is to say

Get up, walk out, and get pissed at the ultimatums too

Throw out the “but I love you promises”and to thine own self be true

Because if you don’t , THEY will go,  and you’ll watch your baby live with her  broken heart  soul

One that can still haunt them  at 37 years old…

Your DNA Remembers

  • When I left home and moved to Pennsylvania, I was drawn to Quakerism. Something so sacred and simple as minding the Light, accepting and celebrating that there is that of God in everyone, and sitting in an expectant silence, was exactly what my spirit needed during that time of change and uncertainty. Years later,  I would find out that my recent ancestors were, in fact, Quakers who settled near the Pennsylvania and Maryland border in the late 1600s. At the same time that I was settling into PA, I learn my very own ancestors had the same journey hundreds of years earlier…. That was some Holy Spirit movement, y’all. 
  • Years  passed, and I stoked the embers of my faith. I listened to the Silence and then I heard the call of the Seasons. I began to notice that naturally I was attuned to vibrancy with summer, spring, and sun. And, I retreated with an anxious longing during winter, autumn, and gray skies. I became increasingly aware that my body cycles with the moon phases. My energy is INTENSE at the full moon and then as night grows darker, so do I sleep better and longer. As I embraced myself as a seasonal being, the voice of ancient woman was able to come through. She, the Sacred She— was wildly in tune with the seasons of earth, the phases of the moon, and the role they play in Her Very own body.
  • I began to realize that at the SAME TIME that the ancient Hebrews were hearing from God, so too, were other people groups, other cultures— those who embraced the divine feminine, those who lived in matriarchal constructs heard from God too. I allowed myself to honor the Divine Feminine within me, and I praised the Knowledge that God just might have been speaking to all these ancients folks in ways their culture could make space for and that perhaps, it WAS ALL divinely inspired and worthy of my attention. It was at this time, I decided to bring representation of God as female into my home. My children needed to see the full spectrum of the divine, and that included the sacredness of woman. By celebrating the sacred sister in me, I was honoring my ancestors, my blood and it wasn’t until years  later, I learned that my ancient ancestors were partakers in worship of the divine feminine.  When I say “Our DNA remembers,” this is what I mean. If you  allow yourself the physical space and the head space to Listen to your own voice within (it takes a while to learn your own voice and not your conditioning) You Will hear the voice of your ancestors calling to you.  It’s this place, that may grant you a faith that doesn’t silence parts of your soul, but allows you to embrace ALL aspects of the divinely inspired You.  Your DNA remembers, friends… Trust it, your ancestors did. 

She’s Not Well

Why do I hate me the most?

Why is  the voice in my head of demons not ghosts?

Waking up to music playing in the air vents

And I know they are here visiting again

It’s gonna be a long night

A dance with the devil

Will I silence his knocking

Or smile and  say, “Welcome”

It’s going to be a long night

Sending  that same text,  “I am  scared”

Trusting your reply, “Babe, it’s all in your head.”

While my body is drug down under our bed…

Maybe down here, I can finally sleep safe

Picture myself inside of the grave

Listen as they shovel buckets of dirt

It’s a lovely sound as it means no more hurt

Thud after thud, a melody quite like rain

Peaceful and steady,   then muffled refrain  

Graveyards are places that I always did like to sleep

It’s completely silent, just echoes of time before me

What a comfort it is to just hear nothing

It’s been years since I slept in silence and peace.

But then I come to and I’m still under my bed and the tapping and voices are not in my head

See, my ancestors, my blood—-they knew of this side of life

So some pulled the trigger, some just ran to hide

But looking through pictures I can see it in their eyes, and eyes do not lie-no eyes do not lie

I go on, day in and day out, trying to pray the  voices won’t start to shout

People in town say, “We heard she was ill.” And Momma replies, “No, she’s doing well.”

But the  inner dialogue started when I was so small, the knowing  I’m not worthy to be great, not at all

When they told me stories I really did listen, no half-hearted sentiments, I knew parts of me were missing

Now, I take a pill each morning in my kitchen, to mask the volume of the dark weight that settles in my system

All my life they  warned me,  “Be careful, the devil wants to get you..” 

And I answered them, “At least someone does,” as I pulled my curtains to….

Spiral Dance

In matters of faith, I have not come full circle. I HAVE spiraled in my cycle of living. This means, as I journey along, I pass over the tops of the places I’ve been. Like a treasure pack full of knowings that I carry on my back, I add to myself. It is possible to take pieces of your past understandings, add to it the good and the beautiful, and remove from it it-that which no longer serves you. It makes the journey that much easier, to remove the weight of baggage not needed…. The evolution of self involves SO much actualization, so much reflection, so much seeing behind what’s visible. You HAVE to be able to ask, why am I doing this? Why do I believe this? How did I come to the routines of life I’m currently partaking in and are there other options I’ve never considered? You have to ask yourself, where are my biases? And then do the research behind the research. I am grateful for my spiral dance. I am grateful that what I know of God/Source/Love, is that I get to cycle through many times over the places I’ve been, submerging myself in the knowings of my past, and emerging as the culmination of my sacred experiences here and now. I am allowed to dip my feet in the waters of change while the waves of the past wash over me and fade away, leaving only the drippings needed to hydrate my soul. This is the evolution of me and I don’t need anyone’s permission or approval.














I like to wake with the sun

sit alone and listen to the birds tell their stories

I like to watch each of my thoughts escape from my grasp, 

They float off on the breeze, and I smile as they pass 

I am not my thoughts, I am the consciousness behind them

This is important work for me, this sitting in silence 

I have to accept that believing what my thoughts tell me, would lend  itself in the long run 

to a deep rooted misunderstanding about the nature of me

See Someone told me once, that I was a sinner—-that I was in need of saving, and that my own being was so corrupt, 

so contaminated 

that I could not be trusted to save myself

I believed it, oh-how completely and fully I believed it, I built my whole life around it

Every single day, I placed my value and my worth in the hands of another and I believed that following the paths laid before me, was the way of love, all the while, not loving myself

Then, I started to look at the brave ones, the greats, the ones history tells us to trust, and I started to see that unlike brainwashed me, they’d stepped out on their own, they’d branched off from their crowds, they’d left the comforts of that which had always been for them, to pave a way to what could be

And they did it alone at first

And each and every journey they took, began with getting to know silence

——-I’ve heard it said before that sometimes the quiet is violent

And I’ll agree

The inner work that has to be done to undo Every Single False Belief you ever let sit in your psyche because someone before you planted it there, will break your fucking bones

But, YOU can and YOU will put them back together 

And when you do, NO ONE will ever be able to deny the radiance that is and always was YOU, from the moment you were born—there was no magic age when suddenly you went from worthy to unworthy—-you, simply by being here were enough all along

NO ONE will affect you with their thoughts or their beliefs about you………or themselves 

For you, you see right through it

And you understand that Somebody Somewhere told them about their condition and they believed it and  they chose it, and they’ve made it work for them-so they built a life around it, and it’s comfortable, and you remember what that’s like….

But never do you wish it for yourself again

Because as for me, I like to wake with the sun

Sit alone and listen to the birds tell their stories 

I like to watch each of my thoughts escape from my grasp

They float off on the breeze, and I smile as they pass 

And, I am not my thoughts, I am the consciousness behind them

When I Go

Sit with me when I go
Til deep in your bones you know
That I am gone

This is to help you lean into your grief
You will not find closure
There is no such thing

Take all the time you need
Watch me in my endless sleep
Letting all our memories
Drip down your cheeks

Remember my voice
And the way that I’d speak
You will still hear me

Touch my hair
Hold my hand
As I grow cold
It’ll help you understand

That I came and I went
And that its okay
That that was it
And you still greet the day

That’s how it should be
Time rolls along
with or without me

Take in the Sun
Behold the Moon
You too, will be here soon

I am not afraid
I am not alone
I am simply no more

Hold on to who I was
Let go of who I’ll never be

Send silent praise
That I’m a part of your history

You are the best parts of me
I am free
I am free

1-9-20 (mother)

A soul journey

You ever wish you could go back in time and hug your ancestors. Look at them eye to eye and tell them all that’s become of their lineage, thanking them for granting you the chance to be here now. This morning, I spent time thinking about my great great grand-pa. He had kidney disease as a young man and spent most of his adult life in extreme pain. My great-grandma was nearly seven, sitting in a one room school house when she heard the gun shot echo through town. She knew it was her Daddy. I think about him and her. I recall the tellings of how he’d tried to prepare them, tried to make sure they understood they’d be better off with him gone, because townsfolk don’t like “lazy men.” My great great grand-pa could not work as a result of his condition and because of those things, he chose to leave this life, hoping someone would come along and be what he couldn’t. He was right…Today, I let my mind imagine myself, meeting him. I put my hands on his face and thanked him for staying as long as he did. I apologized to him, that the technology we have now, wasn’t available then, and I explained that I too, have had some kidney troubles and I cannot begin to imagine the depths of misery with no pain medication available, no surgery, no hope to an end of the suffering. I hugged him and we cried when I told him I know why he had to go, and that he showed great love, the self-sacrificing kind, and that his blood line is filled with happy healthy people. I gave his hand a final squeeze and we grinned-both in the closed mouth way we do… Then, the image faded and I opened my eyes to now, tears seeping from the corners of my eye-lids. I’m grateful to be here right now. And I’m forever in gratitude to my ancestors and the stories about them that I will never know, but that my DNA remembers…

Glass Jars, Moonlight, and Intention

It was the night of a final full moon-  the decade had been so long, 

She’d had enough, done calling all bluffs, time to sing her old new song 

So she stepped outside

And lit fire

To all the pages

All the phases

All the stages

All the faces

That didn’t serve her, and didn’t deserve her

Dropping them into to a jar made of glass

She watched as the water  turned from clarity to ash


Something within her broke. 

Held up her arms in the darkness and the smoke—

Yelled, “Moon-do your Work! 

Can’t take another minute of sitting with this hurt.”

Closed her eyes, closed the door, closed the blinds

Turned on reality, turned off the lies

Sometimes the words come, without having to try 

Then there she was, 15 year old me

Little blonde head, fairy wings, and big dreams

She said, “Stacy, you’re still me, and now you’re strong enough to set some boundaries. Only you can set you free.”

Climbed into my own baptismal bath

Soaking in the brokenness of the pain in my past,

Let the salty water, burn my wounds clean

Let the voices from within rectify me

I’m calling on you, You, the someone deep within

The one who holds the echos of my loved ones, my  friends

I’m calling on You, to come and give me the words

The courage

The boldness that screams

You don’t deserve this, and you never did

I’m calling on You, for gentle wisdom in my bones 

The kind that only comes when you refuse to throw stones

Help me be gentle, but HARSH

Leaving no room for longing in the dark

Help me speak every word with extreme accuracy

Leaving not a single gap for crazy-making

I have been silenced, but only we know

Time to break curses and time to let go

A thousand ancestors lifted me up out of the bath. Woundedness dripping off me, time to speak out the past

Leaving puddles of yesterday, down the wooden floor path, each drop holding memories of rage released on me in wrath

Yes, It was time enough, I was coming for me, Nobody else could do this work- if I were to ever be free

Didn’t need another soul, just the girl that I had been

Before I picked up his darkness and made it my friend

Phone rang. I began to speak,  Unveiling Every Action that’d ever hurt me

Like the glass jar soaking in the moonlight illuminating every burnt trait that I’d accepted in my life

The moonbeams read them out to me, so I spoke them loud and clear, And each time I said, “No More,” a wound would disappear 

Something spiritual was happening as I spoke my own worth over me, I was untangling the ethereal cord that had been attached from him to me

Finally, I could hand it back, Said, “I think this belongs to you.” I can try to help you unravel yourself

But I won’t carry it all for you, you’ll have to be the one to see this work through

I will not bear the weight of your wounds, I am not the reason for your pain

And all this  time instead of healing yourself You poured your poison into my veins

I’ve choked on it, drowned in it, trying to get myself back to me, trying to come up for air from the pools of rage you spew at me

And if you’ll admit that you need help, Then we can find who you’re suppose to be

Before you were wounded, before you had bruises, before darkness called your name

I will stand beside you, but YOU have to lean into your pain

And, I am not your pain. 

I. Am. Not. Your. Pain. 

But I can be your full moon clarity, And we’ll call each wound by name.  Call every single broken piece out until you are free from them,

We’ll watch every ash and ember that rises into the night, cause we know healing  comes when we set our intentions in the glow of the full moonlight. 

In Vain

Help me understand this-
I’m calling on you,
Yes, again—I’m calling on you

Speak to me, please

Quiet tears seep
And I just need your anything

Are you listening?
Can’t you see my cries?
Can’t you see that calling out for you has become my demise?

But I will keep on,
Cause its all I know to do

And my tears will seep on because of no response from you

Does it break your heart to watch me plead?
Does it break your heart to withhold from me?

Or are you just not there,
So why should I care?

I’ve been wired to believe
You’re just a bit out of my reach

And I hang on just enough
To know not to call your bluff

When I see someone claim
That you’re holding them

I can’t help but call on you completely in vain
Then I sit and I wait

I sit and I wait
Eager like a child listening for magic to arrive

And I have been a good girl
So why do you hide
Can’t you see that calling out for you has become my demise

These people say you speak to them, its got to be a delusion
Either that or a chosen confusion

Cause even when I was truest of trues
Peace came at the moment that I would choose

I loved having something to call on
Even better was someone to fall on

But reality is, it was in my head
Nothing concrete but a neurotransmitters release

It did what I needed
Filled up the gaps of my synapses and also of my pleading

My brain won’t allow cognitive dissonance anymore
So today I sit here on the floor

Asking again, which way do I go to get closer to you?
because I am speaking to the air?

With Every tear
Every prayer
It becomes clear
Either you’re withholding from me

By Stacy Johnson 8/3/19

When I was a Christian

My transparency 👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼
+When I was a Christian, I looked at others with a sadness. I believed that if they just had the knowledge that *I* had, they’d be okay.
+When I was a Christian, I thought of myself as a savior. If they could just hear me, speaking for God, they could have a relationship that changed them. 
+When I was a Christian, I truly pitied anyone who didn’t think like me. I was in full belief that my ideals (or my tribes’ ideals) were the only righteous ones.
+When I was a Christian, I operated from a place of unintentional arrogance. It was normal for me to run into someone and immediately ponder in my mind, “Bless them, they’ve had it rough, is there a sin they are committing, leading them into these troubles?”
+When I was a Christian, I met people with a silent judgement, but fake understanding. While I outwardly displayed the fruits of the Spirit, inwardly, I was pridefully attempting to encourage others to be like *me, therefore more like god. 
+When I was a Christian, I loved making sure others knew where I stood. I approached conversations with locked beliefs, unwilling to meet someone else where they were, but with the full hope of swaying them to agree with *me*
+When I was a Christian, all I needed was my echo chamber. So long as I had my believing friends and pulpit pals echoing back to me what I understood about god, then I’d never actually need to hear anyone else out.
+When I was a Christian I prided myself in speaking “truth” to everyone, even if I could sense they were uncomfortable. My brain was actually driven by this tension, to hurl my knowledge louder because these were the folks most in need of my knowledge, I could lead to the saving they didn’t know they needed.
+When I was a Christian, I made a spectacle out of my childrens’ obedience/disobedience to me and God. I praised their attempts at witnessing EVEN THOUGH I was encouraging their false ego, even though I was inherently teaching an us/them worldview.
+When I was a Christian, I doted on my kids as they *led others to Christ, and I began to cultivate in them, the same echo chamber friend system I had partaken in.
+When I was a Christian, my goal was that my children would stand apart for the Lord. No, not they they would see the face of God in others, but mainly that they would see God in their own reflection and their peers in Sunday School.
+When I was a Christian, I felt an arrogant sorrow for those kids who weren’t in Sunday school, oh how different their futures could be, if they had a mother like me…
+When I was a Christian, I could not love people exactly as they were. I always had small internal hopes for the ways *I could rub off on them.
+When I was a Christian, I operated with an ego so large, that I mourned the souls of those not like me, therefore not like God. I literally was a Pharisee by default.
+When I was a Christian, I got high on church, I got high on Jesus, dopamine levels through the roof with 4 part harmonies or repeated chords.

But now, now that I am not a Christian, I’ve loved from the pits of my own despair.
Now that I am not a Christian, I’ve loved with the kind of love that changes ME, literally reshaping my marrow.
Now that I am not a Christian, those whom I love might change—— but not because of my swaying, not because of *my example, but because they are safe and FREEEEEEEE to be unconditionally themselves in my presence. 
Now that I am not a Christian, I look in the eyes of the humans around me and believe in my whole heart that they, *we* are perfectly perfect and not in need of saving, unless it’s the saving that time spent inside the metaphorical grave gives us. 
Now that I am not a Christian, I understand that there’s a glorious darkness inside that grave. And that this is not something you can prompt, that it’s not something an echo chamber can provide. That it is not something you can indoctrinate into your children. It isn’t in a church and it’s only alluded to through metaphor in scripture. 
Now that I am not a Christian, I recognize the quiet of the wilderness, the silence of the mountainside, the belly of the whale—— that is where the holy sacred work gets done, not the pulpit. 
Now that I am not a Christian, I run into hurting people and I sit with them in my own hurt, I am no longer mentally slightly above them.
Now that I am not a Christian, I recognize that in order to eliminate our ego, in order to operate in humility, we must let go of everything we were taught and re-learn what and who we actually are. 
Now that I am not a Christian, people pity *my children, they’ve been proselytized and told that hell awaits them by their churchgoing witnessing peers— They reply, “oh you mean, Gehenna- no way, they turned that into a garden a LOOONG time ago, wanna see pictures, it’s worth a google” and they walk on.
Now that I am not a Christian, I find myself explaining to my children in full compassion the way indoctrination works and how their peers are truly fearful for their souls, that it’s not a burn (play on words😜)
Now that I am not a Christian, I have daughters who come to me tearfully, longing to be friends with ANYONE without an agenda, anyone who can fully love them as they are, without the line drawn.
Now that I am not a Christian, the tables have turned, and I am not in the Cliques, I am not wise-council, I am not even invited to the table without an agenda. I know the hurt of being “just another neighbor, unworthy of hearing.”
But now that I am not a Christian, there is no limit to my neighbor. There is no limit to what *I* can learn from those that I once set out to save. 
Now that I am not a Christian, *they* are saving me. 
Now that I am not a Christian, I sit on the outside of the gates of those who profess to follow Christ and yet, I am free to love like him more than I ever did———when I was a Christian…