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Childhood MemoriesTime became lost,
As i relived the memories flashing through my mind.
Wanting to explode from my mouth,
Poisonous words clawing up my throat, choking me.
The words i had practiced over and over again in front of the same mirror for years
It was dragged back down my throat,
Dissolving into the acid of my belly,
Never to be heard,
But by the ears of my screeching mind.
They could tell that they had gone over the line.
A simple question had been asked,
Then silence clung to the awkward room.
She realized her mistake
Concerned when signs of anguish showed in the flash of eyes
Quickly looking away,
My jaws clenching.
"So, tell us all about your childhood!"
Like a broken clock,
The anxiety that had curled into my stomach.
As my fists fell limply,
Blood still rushing in my ears,
I took a deep breath.
I couldn't answer.
Judas in Her eyesHer kisses tasted like blood, her hair tickled my nose with the smell of roses, her skin was so soft. I remembered these things about her, as i lay face down, on a bed with crumpled sheets. Clenched fists, biting away the pain. Red liquid running down my sides, from the forming pool of crimson in the arch of my back, seeping into the mattress underneath.
I had gone to church that day against my will. She had threatened to leave me, because i don't share her religion. But i needed her in my life, now, more than ever. I couldn't bring myself to tell her why i hated churches so much, or what had happened to me as a child.
I couldn't look at you, knowing that your intent had been to bring me here to be punished so you could be forgiven of your sins. What did the preacher say to convince you? Well, i paid for your foolishness, not your sins, with the many deep cuts of a whip that the preacher had so happily placed there. I realize that i had been in love with a poison arrow. You started cry
Disappointed,..Stop telling me,..
I know, i should have been born a man
As your first child
I wish i could have been.
I, The SinnerI could never look into the eyes of any christain man
For he would just look into my eyes
And tell me what a sinner i am
Maybe someday i could find the courage to rise
FearI remember that one night
She came knocking on my bleeding heart
The moon shone in a rolling tear
As i stood gulping for sanity
I left promissing i'd come back to let her fix me
But i never went back,..
Mother Dear,..What have you done??My mother never did anything.
She never stopped him.
She just watched him destroy me.
Bringing my mind into destruction.
Breaking me down, bit by bit every day.
For years I remained in silence,
My tongue becoming rusty from never speaking.
The words THEY WOULD NEVER UNDERSTAND!!! THEY DON'T CARE!!!
Were like ice cold waves crashing over and over on my mind,
But that never stopped the memories,..
it never stopped my thoughts,..
Burnt feelingsHer father quickly appeared in front of her,..blocking her, so she couldn't pass.
He started preaching to her again, and said that she should listen to God.
"You are NOT god!" She said with venom dripping from her words.
"But i am you father!" He grabbed her, and pulled her out of the door, hurting her frail arm as she tried to resist him.
She stood in the dimly lit court yard, watching as he threw oil over her beautiful creation, that she had been so proud of s few minutes earlier.
Then he lit it on fire, she just stood there, frozen,..unable to take her eye from the flames that was destroying her painting.
He commanded her to stand close to the fire,..she couldn't move.
He roughly grabbed her arm again, pushing her towards the fire,..
she twisted her body so she wouldn't fall into the flames.
"THAT COULD BE YOU BURNING IN HELL!!!!!" he shouted at her pointing to the fire.
Suddenly she became overwhelmed by anger.
She violently grabbed at plants in her mothers garden, ripping away a b
My Home, in my heartI will show you my home.
where the buildings are old,
and crumbling down.
But my heart is in the mountains,..
on the warm sandy beach,..
in the country, climbing a tree.
picking berries, with stained fingers,..
day dreaming under clouds.
writing about you,..
Your sweet eyes,..
and teasing voice,..
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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