My curse

Fire burning in my veins, a choice to

lose that lies, disdains. A truth, a

fact that no one knows. This

life, this curse, it always shows.

 

Struggle to deny the pain, a

surface of unending rain that

drizzles tears and mends the gaps of

blackness where the anger traps my rage and

moans in corners bare and cold.

I Don’t Know

I don’t know what to write or feel or speak

So here I am

Writing

Not even sure what I’m writing

Maybe the noises in my head will cease

or continue until I go so mad that even my screaming is

silent.

 

Megara

The love of man for man and not for girl, a story told around the world

Given to one to wed and bore and losing it all like a worthless whore

So love is the story of the Greeks and Gods while women

Suffer and get thrown aside never to get or give or will.

Eve

Yes, I held the apple, bit its juicy flesh,

Chewed that coarse, harsh innard.

Yes, I handed it to him, I

Begged he take a bite. Wrongness is so

Lonely.

Knowing wrongness lonelier still.

I remember seeing myself and him, I

Remember thinking that my feelings were

Wrong but right and it confused me. I

Wanted to know more; I wanted to see more.

Running in shame, bare feet on harsh earth.

Serpent all but forgotten.

Hand in hand, breath in breath, fear in fear.

All but forgotten.

Innocence is bliss, I say, and now the saying is

Known, for now I live with every

Birth, and know they will all be gone.

Bathsheba

Oh, I wish I had never sat on that cursed roof.

A man who owned the world, in his mind, owned me outright.

To see what he wants and then reach out and grab it. How nice to be man, how nice.

His world already golden, his hairs barely gray.

Oh, I wish I had the power to keep my men alive.

A man who I loved dearly sent to his death, a man I barely knew dying from my womb

To curse the man who wanted everything and got it without initial thought

His cries of remorse and shame unheard on my ears.

Oh, I wish I could curdle his blood with my lips and fingers,

A man who has everything but still wants more,

To see his children running happily and plan the future throne,

How I wish I’d known, How I wish I’d known.

Medical care

I can’t believe that I’m going to have to rack up medical bills again and most likely file bankruptcy again after this one is done with. I don’t know what else to do – I need the medical care but can’t afford insurance. I hate doing this. Doc wants me to get a CT scan and ultrasound and some other tests. We are trying to figure out the origin of this constant pain. But, in order to get these tests, I’m going to have to get billed for something I can’t pay back, realistically, unless they will take like five bucks a month, which will take forever to pay (and I can’t afford to pay them each five bucks a month either), but maybe I can at least do that. A little is at least something, right?

What happened to me part two

I write this as a shedding of a skin that no longer fits me. I write this for me. Those of you out there reading this (if anyone ever reads this) may think of me as a whiner or something, but I don’t care. I have to get this out and shed this skin.

When I was five years old, my family was Mormon. We were poor and lived on big blocks of cheese and butter with tons of rice. I was a despicable child who whined about having to eat rice yet again and one time, I remember, that I threw up the rice because I couldn’t fathom eating it again. I threw up the rice that my mother worked so hard to provide because I was a spoiled brat, basically. Later, I would find out that we were in this program with the Mormon church that would help us with food and stuff, and as a complement to the program, we were to house a missionary family. Now, this would normally be an honor, but this missionary family was sick and dark.

I don’t remember what the first signs were or if it just happened, but suddenly my brother and I had to fight off the advances of a man and his two sons. They regularly raped us, along with the daughter of their family. The daughter, I think, was slow, but I’m not sure. I was so young, so I don’t recall. I know the two sons were mentally retarded and probably did not know what they did was wrong. The father, however, he knew. At least, I think he knew. I know he did what he did in secret and threatened to harm my mother if I ever told anyone. I will never forget the day that I was sitting there, trying to watch Sesame Street and be left alone from the father’s pawing, and he put his penis in the back of my underwear. His wife walked in from work and yelled at him to put his penis back in his pants. That was when I first realized that she knew about his nature and what he was, what he did, and there was no hope for help from her.

My memories are choppy from that time. I remember them wanting to find out if a flashlight would light me from the inside. I remember waking up one time in bed to pain and then realizing one of the sons had his fingers inside me. These things became common for me until one day I was at my Aunt’s house and she noticed blood in my urine. She took me to the doctor and the doctor revealed that I was pretty used down there and she called me mom and my mom had a breakdown about it. I remember telling the pastor about what they did to me, and I remember feeling in the end like it was all my fault. OK, there are the memories. There is the first time I was ever molested in my lifetime. And, now, here comes the rest of it – I forgive them. I have been seeking them out, wanting to press charges, wanting to shout out to the world what they have done to me, but it is to no avail. It is only destroying me in this trying to find justice. I forgive them and all they did to me. I forgive them so I can shed this skin and move on with my life.