Small 


Small, yes now I remember what that feeling was, 

Feeling less, 

Why me, didn’t he see me as human enough to give value to my innocence, 

Maybe I wasn’t good enough to be deserving of that respect , 

Maybe I deserved it, that was the feeling,

Small, 

Why didn’t they like me, maybe they knew it, how less he made me feel, how he diminished my person. 

I wish they trained me in him, God I mean, because he would’ve told me from the start, that he’d bring out the light from the darkness I was in, 

The light I now see, I don’t even know why I’m writing this, 

It won’t change what happened, 

life through heat, roughed me, 

But God brought out the best,

and purged me as a silver, and made me clean. 

The happy place

There is a place I love to go when I’m thinking, that moment in my mind where everything was perfect, where everything was okay. 

It isn’t an atmosphere where every feeling colors blue, 

Every one is happy, but not like La la land, with dancing shoes, 

Its a real place, I know it is. 

In my head I try to find it, 5,6,7,8…. Years of age but still, nothing, every memory in me, has me wanting something, lacking something, there hasn’t been a perfect moment, nor me. 

I’ll start from 5.

In a pink dress, without color in the dark, I walked into his room, 

“she’s calling you my mom, she’s calling you”, silence. 

I couldn’t see his face, it was blackness everywhere, 

Maybe I shouldn’t complete this story, as long as it has been, its still traumatizing, 

It’s a beginning, I shouldn’t revisit. 

Letters to God

​Dear father, 

I can’t write, I can’t write! not one word, not even my poetic thoughts, my head is full of so many beautiful words, but I forget them all when I try to share it with the world. Father I love writing, it makes me happy, it gladens me, it’s a feeling that I miss, it’s one of the only things that feels real, but now I can’t write. 

Ok, maybe “I”, don’t even want to write, maybe I want you, your spirit to inspire me to write, to write beautiful words like your servant David, your son’s Korah and yes like Solomon, 

Father please inspire me, you’ve brought me out of the flesh to live onto you, please I want to write, for you, through the words, Jesus shining through, it’s one of many of my hearts desires that you’ve already promised to grant, and I’m so happy you’re not a man, and that you can’t  lie. 
Amen. 

The girl


It’s her eyes I see first as she walks into the room, I’m never close enough, so I assume they’re green, like the envy in me. 

I want to walk up to her, and say hi, for no reason,  I’d ask how she keeps her hair in perfection, or how her skin remains as smooth as a babes bottom, 

I’d ask her to switch places with me, if I was in her skin, maybe things would be easier for me,

Who knows though, she might have a terminal disease, or insecurities, but I doubt it, 

she’s pretty and that’s all I see. 

Her

She still smiles, she still laughs, 

She’s still beautiful, she’s radiant as ever, 

It’s her life, her whole life, 

The abuse, it’s her life now, 

She doesn’t even hear it anymore, 

She doesn’t feel it anymore, 

He is just a man, he holds her down, but he is still a man, 

She still smiles, she still laughs, 

But the regret in her eyes speak louder, than when he roars.