Tiffany A. Robbins's Blog

December 31, 2016

A Moody New Year

My brain is craving emotions that this relationship can’t sustain, and I want desperately to have a conversation between equals about it. I crave the conversation about how to crush my feelings as much as I crave to feel your affections surround me. But both are off limits and I am just left craving with no satisfaction to be had.


So instead, Happy New Year to all you out there with no outlets. Someone else on this rock feels you. Let the alcohol flow and Auld Lang Synes flow.


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Published on December 31, 2016 17:43

November 17, 2016

The Man

I’ve seen a man crying; he was broken – not weak. He was no coward and had no flaws in actions oblique. He walked the steps of his downfall with head held high, and the pride of knowing he was a good man while choosing to die.


The tears streamed down as he fought so hard for a resolute decision that would leave his little girl scarred.


His best friend pleaded, “It’s okay for you to go. Just do it for life. That’s all I need to know.”


“I can’t,” he whispered with mournful steadfastness, “There’s no way to go without entering that big, dark vastness. I’m tired and wore out. The pain is so hard. My family is over. Their future is the only thing I have left that I must safeguard. I have one way to see them through this world, but I can’t see them again. I can feel the truth run through me, I’ll die of this chest pain. I’ll do it the right way. No gore in sight. I’ll find a good spot; the moon is powerful tonight. Just like a dog, it’ll be merciful. No suffering. Then the family can heal. You’ll be their comforting.”


“I understand,” I said with matching tears forced by torn heartstrings. The beautiful man would go. He’d ride one last time on his Harley wings. I’d hold those who love him through their pain. He trusted me to do that despite the strain.


My last act of friendship was to let that friendship die. His last act was more tender as he embraced me goodbye. I loved that man every moment he let me and will continue to do so, though his soul be set free.


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Published on November 17, 2016 12:51

July 26, 2016

To my Family…

When I was baptized as one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, I was a fifteen-year-old child. I made emotional decisions based on hormones and trying to find my place in the world. At the time, I thought I was making a sound decision. As sound of a decision as a fifteen-year-old is capable of making.


As I grew, I had feelings of doubt and wonder, but I knew I had dedicated myself to a set of ideas and values and I did everything in my power to live up to that dedication and make it truly my own.


However, as I lived my life, I came to the conclusion that the life of dedication I’d promised was not the life that would make and keep me happy. I no longer agreed with the teachings and practices found inside the Kingdom Hall, and in good conscience I needed to leave the organization.


It was never my intention to leave you, my family. My allegiance to the Watchtower Society and its governing body may be gone, but my love for you is eternal.


Having my family turn their backs on me simply because I no longer agree with their religious beliefs breaks my heart more than I can convey to you, but I will not allow myself to be emotionally coerced by returning to that religion. Know that I struggle daily with grief because you are constantly in my heart and I miss you. I dream that one day you will understand the harsh cruelty on removing yourself from my life, and that you will allow us to repair our family bonds. I will be waiting with open arms and open heart for the day you can allow me back into your life.


– With All My Love –

Tiffany A. Robbins





WatchtowerVictimsMemorialDay.com


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Published on July 26, 2016 08:03

May 14, 2016

Blackout Poetry: xxxii

human beings daily evoke aggressions


we escape nature with pain or consequence


the give-and-take of life dishes out pleasure in conquest


everything at high speed bamboozles man


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Published on May 14, 2016 11:44

May 11, 2016

Blackout Poetry: Villain Knock

Knock, sir?


know villain, knock


villain, knock knock knock, ring


knock villain


what’s the matter?


Go GO I say.


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Published on May 11, 2016 11:42

May 10, 2016

Blackout Poetry: Time

the treacherous years collect each lifetime


though time is scarcely remarkable


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Published on May 10, 2016 11:40

May 8, 2016

Blackout Poetry: Time and Its Passage

a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered


and


a maiden bedazzled with the sun


perceive joy and age in wonder not qualified as may seem


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Published on May 08, 2016 11:39

May 5, 2016

Blackout Poetry: The Female Lead

a monstrous female brings out the best


an extraordinary woman displaces the whole story


“taming” a woman, is in reality a show to the audience


she was naturally a type of woman widely known in song and story


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Published on May 05, 2016 11:35

May 2, 2016

Blackout Poetry: Proud Minded

the proud-minded feed their fury with fire


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Published on May 02, 2016 11:34

May 1, 2016

Blackout Poetry: Prayer

God save you


God lend me life


I pray?


careless


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Published on May 01, 2016 11:33

Tiffany A. Robbins's Blog

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