The Phoenix

So many people write about being like the Pheonix. Great triumph over tragedy. Major comeback over catastrophic setbacks. I love to hear their stories and the fire return to their eyes.

I too, have fallen and risen so many times. I have a chronic condition where my body …specifically my brain likes to try and kill me. Repeatedly.

So.. I do the things and endure the treatments. I’ve had so many MRI’S that by now I’m pretty disappointed that I don’t have hulk-like powers or at the very least reverse polarity with glow in the dark eyes. But alas, I just seem to lose a tiny bit of my former self each surgery, each procedure, each fabulous comeback.

I used to say I was the Phoenix, strong, elegant, self sacrificing. One who bravely flys into the sun to burn up the old then fall back down to earth to begin anew.

I have come to realize that I really tire of being the Phoenix . I want to be a hummingbird. Just hover in place..steadily, with bounds of energy. Drink in the perfume of beautiful flowers in beautiful places. Have sugar all day.

To me stability is the greatest gift of the universe.

#pituitary #brain #chronicillness #PHOENIX # radiation

What’s Love got to do with it…

Unrequited love…a two word romanticized phrase for putting up with someone’s BS reasons for not being capable of giving their heart fully to you. Deserving of more but settling for less, not fully valuing yourself and putting your needs, wants, desires in the recesses of dark closets with the door cracked just enough for a glimmer of light to creep in every now and then. Small morsels, scraps if you will, of something that should be so big and so radiant one would never strain or struggle to see the truth. A tradgedy of epic imprisonment….unrequited love.

Good Morning Sunshine

Helloooo Sunshine! I stand on tiptoe with arms reaching upward. I step into the awakening, slowly colorizing landscape to seek sleepy blooming gifts of vibrancy. The tender infancy of the delicate beauty that is pushing it’s way to the top. The outstretched stems longing for warmth and growth and love. You embrace me with a warm rapturous hug, ending my seclusion of the solitary,frozen, and fridgid winter.

Be still

In this world of constant barrage of toxicity it is so important to sit with oneself. Take the time to just be. Breathe deeply. Picture pleasurable things in your mind. Waves coming in. Flowers in bloom. Then bring up scent memories. Your favorite perfume. The way your favorite person smells. The scent of coming rain. It’s a beautiful thing to be connected to one’s self.

#mentalhealth #balance

When One Door Closes…

My inside door handle has been broken for quite some time.

To avoid paying for a costly repair, I’ve just been pushing the auto button rolling the driver’s side window down and lifting the outside handle to exit my vehicle.

Yesterday evening I needed to run out for a short trip. I should mention the weather here has been below freezing for a few days. Upon my arrival to the drive-thru at my destination; I press the window button and can’t roll down my window..frozen.

After just a few moments of strange sign language between the cashier and I.

I pull away to find a parking spot and turn the heat up really high on defrost…but alas! To no avail! I am trapped.

Then, I decide to climb over a gear shift and bucket seats to the passenger door (don’t ask why I thought it would be unfrozen) on my climb over there is a cup of water from Wendy’s in cup holder which my behind mashes and sends icy cold water everywhere. Safely in passenger seat, sans dry jeans, I pull on the door latch to open and it breaks…now I have a matching set!

Then I climb back over and try driver’s window again…STILL frozen. 🤔 if I scoot my seat all the way back can I roll down the driver side passenger window and reach up to driver’s outside latch. Answer;My arms lack about an inch shy of making that happen.

So, let’s recap I’m trapped in my car, in a parking lot…wet butt…two broken doors, with a window that’s still not rolling down!

I start laughing…I’m laughing so hard tears are rolling.

Finally, the window frees itself. I go back around to the drive thru and I tell this story to the lady who begins to laugh as hard as I am, and make my purchase. No it was not alcohol but if I drank, I’m pretty sure this would have been an occasion for it.


On the very short drive back to my home, the passenger side door that wouldn’t open, OPENS going up a hill. The door picked that moment to thaw out and fly open. Luckily it closed when I stepped on the brake.

I’m not going out until spring.

Still Reaching For Daylight

Angela Morrison


#humor #life


Image from Google images.

My mirror has many opinions I wish it would keep to itself.
It’s casts shadows on my confidence.

The truth in 3D of age, stress, and strife.
A well worn image of life experience, all the travels through emotions laid out as a roadmap.

Trails of tears have led to pools of deep resting on my cheeks.
The signs of many many lost hours of sleep.
It speaks to me of criticisms from within.

If onlys are carried through my mind like a softly blowing wind.
Constantly haunted by the way it should have been.

Desperately trying to fit all the pieces together again.

Reaching for Daylight

Angela Morrison-Rakes

#depression #poetry #anxiety #bipolor2

Still..Reaching for Daylight

I originally wrote this poem about a year ago and titled it The Well. I have read and reread it since about a bazillion times. Made changes and edits, poets and writers will understand why.

I am now happy enough with it. (I think) I’ve given it a new title, I’m really happy with that!

Reaching for Daylight

I fall down deep into the darkness,the blackness of forever. A quiet so loud that nothing nor anyone can be heard.
I sleep the sleep of forgotten responsibilities. Curled up I cannot hear, I cannot speak. I don’t have to think.

I’m wrapped in a comfey blanket of gray, the opaque color of fog.
Where nothing can be seen clearly. Everything is cloaked in a saturated heavy misty gloom. Not dead, but certainly not living.

Arms and legs encased in concrete, prevent even the slightest move. Every mistake made, every self doubt keeps my brain screaming. Long ago words that were hurled like rocks hitting their mark are playing in my mind like some twisted loop.

On autopilot I accomplish the minimum. Canceled plans leave family and friends confused. I say I’m fine but that’s a mask. I’m unable to complete even the simplest of tasks.

As quickly as it came it sure is slow to leave. A greedy, sinister, interloper of my life has gobbled up all but a glimmer of light. It throws me down and sits on me until I can barely breathe.
But that glimmer is my saving grace starting as a whisper. I hear it low and faint. You must get-up and come back to the light, yes you can do it, but you’ve got to fight. The whisper increases volume GET-UP… GET-UP…GET-UP once more. You can do it, as many times before.

I begin to climb, claw, and scratch my way back. Im searching and searching for the path.
I plead to God for help with the baggage that I know I must unpack. Two steps forward and about 20 back.

I slide down a few times to the familiar darkness. Bruised, bleeding, and broken from my own thoughts. Hands are outstretched to me our fingertips brush. Just within reach, the whisper becomes clear…you must! You must perceivere.

Depression is an ongoing and an exhausting fight. But I know I have the strength within me to keep Reaching for Daylight.

Angela Morrison-Rakes

Images from Google search, I claim no rights to them.

#depression #poetry #writing

#family #light #love

The Truth

Afraid of the Truth an original painting
By: Rebekah Corah

The Truth

The truth lies somewhere between he said and she said.
Muddy water at best, a test to your emotions in your current space.
They said…. is tainted, be wary of others commentary on your truth.
Dig deep, you have to uncover the root.
If there is disease prune it off.
Nurture and talk to regrow strong.
Listen carefully make sure the information given is not wrong.
It’s often said the truth will set you free.
I’ve often found the truth is full of pain and misery.

Reaching for Daylight
Angela Morrison-Rakes
#art #poetry #writing

I claim no rights to published image found through Google search. I have given proper credit to the artist.