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A Poetic Healing

Explore a page of emotional healing, through the words of poetry author, Kat Copeland. Decorate your home with intricate pieces of the arts and add to your treasured literary collection in the shop. Enjoy weekly blog posts of poems dripping with emotion. Each poem is a rhythmic cadence, easy to digest. Embrace a new contagious passion for poetry’s genre.

 
 
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  • Kat Copeland

Burning Halos

This is the conclusion of a six part bog series about surviving trauma and abuse.


I would like to thank everyone who has patiently read each of these parts, despite their lengthy nature. And to those who reached out during their release, thank you for your courage in allowing me the privilege of knowing your struggle. My heart aches for your experience, though I am thankful God gifted me the ability to connect with you through words. I pray for you, I love you, and I wish you peace and happiness always moving forward.


Have my experiences left me damaged? Yes. Burdened? Haunted, is more accurate. Left me with thickened skin? Absolutely. Though it has not made me devoid of empathy and compassion, only able to acknowledge toxicity and given me strength to be selective when necessary. I have a bleeding heart for society, an eager love to share. I desire to aid other’s in their battle, to connect with people, to bring light and laughter to solemn darkness. Though I make mistakes, I will miss the mark with some, I have and will say the wrong things, and can worsen some situations. This makes me human, which is okay, life is to error. I am a damaged angel, with one foot in the ashes, and another on a cloud. My halo is a golden ring ablaze, my ombré wings fade from white to black. I have a smoky gown with tears from where I’ve caught it. My features are not perfect, my face reflects lines of laughter and pain. If you can see passed the scars this life has left me, you will find, I’m an angel that’s unique. And those with burning halos, are the greatest one’s to seek.


There are guardian angels from above, who are the reason we survive trauma in our lives. There are also Satan’s angels who rise from the flames to stir chaos. I have met many mortal angels in my life. Those who are pure and bright, undamaged by the darkness. I have also known damaged angels, whose burning halos are not to be avoided. Ombré wings and smoky gowns do not depict the devil’s influence, but rather a painted image of surviving Satan’s attack. Is a room lit better by a bulb or burning flame? They each produce light, the only difference, understanding one can burn you.


My drive home each night in my teens wasn’t a break from working hours, but rather a direction toward easing a pain. I would silence the chaos in my head and numb the ache in my heart, with the warmth of tequila, marijuana induced laughter, or the familiar itch of a narcotic high. On nights spent in solitude, I would redirect focus from internal to external pain. And in between heartbreak, I would lull the betrayal and abandonment inside another’s arms through distant detachment.


I was a functioning addict on many levels, trying to mask heartache. There’s an internal deterioration in a façade unseen. A danger in hiding your dance with the devil. You can’t expect a lifebuoy, when no one knows you’re drowning. I survived my adolescence because God loved me, because He knew I could do better, because He sent me angels who helped unknowing my struggle, and because He gifted me strength of perseverance. I do not believe in what might have been, a waste of time, and time is precious. However, if my story can encourage another to do better than I, I hope you will. I pray you ask for help, I pray you reach out, and I pray you pray. Had I chosen one of the many angels I had in my life to confide in, my journey would not have been so difficult.


I do not wish it possible to erase my pain and trauma. That may seem a strange concept to some. I’m unsure how the universe works, if my experiences would have fallen to another had I been born in a different family, I would relive it a hundred times to spare the next. If the hardship of my beginning is the only road leading to my adopted Daddy and family today, I would choose it again and again. Who I am has been molded by my past. Every tear, every trauma, every heartbreak, and every blissful moment has formed the persona you know. Without the trauma and abuse, I would have remained a child all my life. I have a wild imagination, a vision of color, and a heart filled with love and laughter. This is a risky thing in today’s world. My pain has taught me to be strong and resilient. My fear has taught me to be cautious and observant. My scars have taught me everyone has a past, and forgiveness is pertinent, for yourself even more than another. These attributes my friends are wisdom, and wisdom is only developed through experience. They have not dissolved my childish nature, but rather enhanced it. No one can crush my dreams anymore with negative actions and words. I’ve already seen and heard them all. I understand some people aren’t meant for coexistence, and forgiveness isn’t tied to a relationship. You cannot teach people unwilling to learn, you cannot expect everyone to reciprocate a smile, you cannot judge a person today for actions past, and you cannot make assumptions upon a first glance. The greatest downfall in personal growth, is unrealistic expectations.


Burning Halos


There are angels here among us,

We meet along our road.

Who join us on our route,

To help carry our load.

Not every one in white,

Some have known a beaten path.

Their struggle to survive,

Is a darker aftermath.

With one foot in the ashes,

While another’s on a cloud.

Their voice can be angelic,

Yet powerful and loud.

Kind eyes with worry lines,

Ombré wings of white to black.

Their smoky gowns are torn,

From a world under attack.

Don’t avoid a damaged angel,

For angels are unique.

The one’s with burning halos,

Are the greatest one’s to seek.

They aren’t blinded by perfection,

They understand life’s pain.

They aren’t scared to face your storm,

They’ll dance with you in rain.


Every “mess” in life, is only the beginning of a “message” my friends. We were designed to endure, designed to advance, designed to forgive, and designed to error.


May you never outgrow a sense of humor and imagination.

May you never mature to an absolute knowledge.

May you never allow your experiences to define who you become.

May you never see a stereotype.

And may you forever remember,


You are stronger than you feel,

More intelligent than you know,

Louder than you hear,

And more beautiful than you see!


All my love,

~Kat

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