Quotes to Write By

Busy bee, that’s me…writing
Khawaga Kid found her voice to use in The Family Court Case from Hell
Today I am better than I was yesterday, but not as good as I will be tomorrow.

Soon it will end after decades. The Family Court Case from Hell. 1984 thru 2021. Mama and me? We vow to ourselves and one another that this is the final court battle. We will be free of Kabtn Khawaga, ex-husband and ex-father.

I am his daughter, Khawaga Kid; Write Fighter. I chronicle the days of our lives and the poison of his lies. Out of alibis, caught by the world wide web.

Advice With Pics

100% Agree
Diva Facebook Live…Once Upon A Time…But Not Now! Co-Defendant.
Kabtn Khawaga Smoking Shisha and Looking Tired.
“Tell her that if she doesn’t accept my offer, I will just stay in Egypt.” You should have stayed in Egypt, Kabtn Khawaga aka Defendant.
1979 thru 2021–The Family Court Case from Hell.

My Daily Med

Sunday, December 20, 2020. Have you ever praised God–singing and rejoicing–as you drive your car when suddenly, you feel you’re not alone? The fact is, you aren’t. God’s angels are there; right by your side. You may not see them, but they are there!

Your praise isn’t just an expression of your joy. You actually are doing battle in the spirit realm. While you are praising God–swoop!–the angels of God are stopping your enemy in His tracks. Swoop!–the angels of God are scattering your enemy!

Furbabies. My Warm Fuzzies.

A few members of Khawaga Kid’s emotional support group. 🐾♥️ Big Red Fuzzy is our girl Bossey. The affectionate hugger is Bud Boudreaux from Bay St. Louis, MS. Stripe Eddy is my taskmaster and talker. I ask him, “Stripe, when do you want treats?” He answers with, “Right meow.” 😺

Meet part of my Furbaby Family. These three usually join me for early morning My Daily Med and first words of the day.

Khawaga Kid and Kabtn Khawaga. Kabtn Khawaga is my father. I am his Khawaga Kid. My mother is his First Mate V. I am writing a memoir called The Family Court Case from Hell.

I changed the name of my 10th anniversary “card” to hubby. It’s called Howdy Neighbor. Arrowhead Season is a chapter and also a poem.

Sister of Khawaga Kid. Her name in my writing is Talathy Opal. My name is Alexandria Pearl. Our Father of Lies is Rico Mack–Kingpin of the Coastal Cartel. Our mother is his First Mate V. We are the family my truth as fiction writing called

THE FAMILY COURT CASE from HELL

From UrHere to the Father of My Children

For the health of my family tree, I write to say I forgive you and ask that you forgive me. We were two broken teens from broken homes and we had a broken marriage. You reached across decades and miles the night of July 7, 2018. I heard your voice for the first time since you told me, “I’ll take those boys from you because it’s the last thing I can do to hurt you.” Then I find you with your enabler brother doing a series on how to have a successful divorce. Both of you former preachers and I listened to the hypocrisy and dishonesty. I fought my way up out of that dark and dreadful night of doubting and praying. Two preachers and me. How could we be serving the same God??? So God says in my spirit, “You take care of your relationship with me. Let them take care of theirs. It is not your business.” I wrote this poem about our marriage. Please forgive me. I forgive you.

Ashes of Roses

I hold the

Heart-shaped box

Filled with

Dried rose petals

Whispering a prayer

I strike a match

To incinerate memories

Love killed

By words and blows

I walk

Out of the

Shadows

Scattering

Ashes of roses

A Letter from UrHere/PTSD

Violators,

Sometimes abuse is random, perpetrated by strangers committing crimes of opportunity. It was January 1984 when I encountered the two of you. I was fighting for my life and the one I call Driver…I clamped onto your thumb when you tried to silence my screams for help. You had to pull your thumb between my teeth, leaving your flesh behind. I spit your flesh and blood onto the pavement. Thirty-six years. PTSD. I wrote the poem below. It’s good. It’s bad. It’s ugly. I call it:

Smiling on the Outside

A normal day for me is

Talking to people

Having a “normal” conversation

While I relive

The taste of flesh and blood

The taste of survival

I smile on the outside

Sometimes people say

My smile made their day

Happy I could make

Their day a bit better

Perhaps they will smile

At someone

Because

Someone smiled at them

On the inside my heart

Beats

An ancient tribal drum

I recite

My Warrior’s Blessing

It is a good day to die

I make peace with death

Before I defend myself

If I must die

Today it is okay

Death is a portal

My Warrior’s Battle Cry

It is a good day to die

I make peace with death

Before

I defend myself

If you die today

I am sorry

As I look into

Your eyes and smile

When I spit your

Flesh and blood

Into the dirt