Words by Dagmar Morgan
I did not wake up like this.
I did not stumble from the cradle
of my mother’s womb ready for the spotlight.
My dressing room was a broken home.
My Dad, a Christmas gift
I got to open once a year.
For him, weekend visits were a museum
full of memories
he did not want to relive, let alone pay admission to.
Mom dressed her army of emotions in economic blue
- three jobs don’t work themselves
So, you don’t ask for extra things
because you know it was something we can’t afford.
For me, family was an unsigned permission form
It left me divided along the dotted line
caught between landscapes,
two sets of rules, two houses.
Learning two different dialects;
my tongue split down the middle from calling two different men, Dad.
Me, always digging trenches to find a place that I could lay down in.
The streetlights were the only thing that ever warned me of the
There were only park bench babysitters
and boys who said they knew the way home.
I became a closed mouth half smile.
Learned to wear survivor like pull over sweater.
There are no questions when you look pulled together.
You don’t see the broken feet of the ballerina, just the pirouette.
You could say, that I have become an excellent dancer.
But each day my stomach a sucker punch of bad leftovers.
Inside I was falling apart for days at a time.
I took it as proof that I was not resilient.
I did not bounce back.
I was coal in a Christmas stocking;
heavy and lifeless.
But Jewels that are heavy with purpose
Do Not Bounce.
They take strength to lift.
Not everyone will be able to hold on to you.
Some people will walk away from things they can’t afford
There are millions of diamonds all over this world undiscovered.
It takes a master to chip away at the darkness,
a trained eye to see a diamond’s worth.
A hammer shaped like redemption
to knock the dirt off its shoulders.
In the diamond business, it is called cutting,
Maybe that is why it hurts
to take the things meant to kill you and squeeze a life out of them.
A diamond is small, but it can cut through anything.
They can survive impact and still not be broken.
They can withstand temperature change
so, turn up the heat.
If each struggle is a gem in the crown I wear,
then each day crown me again.
How can I take these rough-cut pieces
and buff them to shine back salvation.
I will never be flawless
but in Him I am blameless.
He is chiseling every ache into accolade.
Every jagged angle into winged angel.
Every hour of prayer into stage time.
No, I did not wake up like this.
I worked for this.
Prayed for this.
Knees down, hands up for this.
Spoke life into dead days for this.
Read verses until I was tongue tied with truth.
And my God, He uncovered a diamond.
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