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it's what we have in common
I’m not Satan,
I’m a child of god.
I’m not Satan,
But I’m a child of god;
Maybe that’s what we have in common.
I cannot write a poem
About gang violence,
Or drug abuse.
I can talk about the years
When I didn’t feel human.
When my only humanity
Was the ability to feel shame,
So I felt it with my whole being.
I didn’t become callous and hard,
I became dry and easily chiseled.
So others were in a position to define me.
I was numb behind their shadows.
It wasn’t a mask;
More of a cage.
It wasn’t really a cage
It’s just what kept me
From writing the suicide note.
My aunt was red faced.
I was ten
But she still would not look at me.
My mom used to try to make me feel crazy
Or she’d try to convince herself
That I loved her.
My little brother used to say
‘But she is our mother.’
Maybe I wasn’t always right
But I was a child.
Perhaps I’ll never be fully formed,
But I’ll never be a child again.
That’s what I must reconcile.
