I am the evil child. The sole child of three who cannot remember bible scriptures verbatim or cite their chapters and verses when quizzed daily. I am the child who had once sneezed while his sister was saying grace. I am the child who once fell asleep during his father’s sermon. I am the child who was regularly tied up and gagged underneath the dining room table.

I used to contemplate what the members of the congregation would think of my father if they knew about what took place in his home. I wondered if they knew that he would start his “teachings” by citing Proverbs 13:24, “Whoever spares the rod hates his son…” -- I forget the rest of the passage - then beat me into oblivion. I wondered if they knew that he gave my brother and sister $1 for each switch they could find – the same switches they would use to whip me with once I regained consciousness from my father’s preceding thrashings. I wondered if they knew that the roses my mother brought to decorate the church were the same ones that she used to lash me with once the roses had died. She thought the thorns drove home that I was a sinner, and made it easier to "drive the demons out of me". I wondered if they knew that my parents, brother, and sister would circle around me and my current corrector as they ceaselessly chanted, “spare the rod, spoil the child… spare the rod, spoil the child…”.

One of my first memories was of my father holding me over the edge of a cliff, telling me that I was destined to burn in eternal fire and that he should let go of me to put the family out of their misery. Throughout my life, whenever I did something that was "against the Lord", my father frequently led me to the edge of that cliff and would threaten to push me off. He would tell me that I was lucky that he was a man of the cloth so he couldn’t do it himself; after which, he would remind me that I was a sinner and should jump off into the pits of hell, “where I belong”.

On the last car ride to the scene of my first memory, I was no longer frightened – I was numb to the routine. We arrived at our destination, and I robotically got out of the car. Although there was no need, my father grabbed the back of my shirt as he pinched my neck and violently ushered me to the brim of the canyon. With the tips of my toes at the edge of the cliff, I gazed down to its depth. What more could I do to gain their love and be accepted as righteous? I looked over at them and they were all stone-faced except for my younger sister. She appeared to have tears in her eyes, although it could have been due to the glaring sun. I turned my head back and lifted up my arms as I thrust my chest toward the openness of the canyon. I did not know anything else that I could do but, wanted nothing more than a crumb of their approval. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in and as I exhaled I poured what was left of my soul as I pleaded for their acceptance, “Honor thy father and mother” Ephesians chapter 6 verse 2”, then took my final step.

I could meet you in the evening

as the primrose grows

as the primrose grows

evening primrose grows

I only open in the evening

and the primrose knows

and the primrose knows

evening primrose knows

Don't touch or hover around me

yet the primrose flows

yet the primrose flows

evening primrose flows

I will leave you at sunrise

see this primrose close

see this primrose close

this evening primrose shall close

Life Amongst the Living

My hatred for you makes my skin and in-betweens bubble off my bones. Intoxicated by my hatred, I glance over and my tarred heart stopped beating. I live the pain reflecting from your face. Come! Let me help you uncover all the majesties that await you.

Never forget the indifference in my face and the truth in my eyes - you were merely a suitable distraction from watching the ticking clock

Oh how I basked in the moment when your footsteps no longer made a sound

Your words, your thoughts, and your being

- just like that speck on the wall –

are insignificant, vapid, and in need of a little paint

I hear your restlessness as you exhaust yourself on some lumpy pillow

as you realize that I kept myself amused by pulling every string

Finally, this madness ended when you acknowledged your trivial life

Now resist your instinctual urges by fruitless thoughts of groveling back

Forever brand it into your soul that you never captivated me

So sad that you never saw these truths surrounding you, my feeble little flower

Breathe in these words and exhale with pain and certainty that

I hurt YOU

And you are no more capable than a pinprick of ever affecting me

So you’re dismissed, little buttercup

Flee!

Flee!

Flee!

I refuse to fall through that rabbit hole. I need not for my brain to whisper and taunt my soul about how pointless it is to even write these words. It is crucial that I stay in my lane; yet, I glance over at the brilliance of others - others who are so much more articulate and worthwhile than I could ever be.

No! I will not second, triple, or a million times guess myself – not this time. No longer will I allow myself to entertain such insecurities. I will power through.

What fleeting lies! Savagely, the thoughts of my inadequacies are the loudest; therefore, I know them to be true. These meanderings of my mind smother me and are confirmation that I should stay frozen in order to remain invisible to my own judgment’s headlights.

Enough! I must silence my brain. I refuse to fall through that rabbit hole – despite the fact that, as always, I just did.

Tormented all day, I searched for the perfect words

The perfect wording for me (molded by you)

I want to sleep and I don’t really care (but I do)

I do it because it is necessary; otherwise, I could not be bothered

Hours later

Hours later

Hours

later

It still is not good (or even good enough), but I must force myself to swallow this

daunting

chalky

soul-sucking

sleep-stealing

task which you all seem to breeze through,

drink like the purest water,

and attract all worthwhile parties ~

parties who justly nurture all of you idyllic beings

I squeeze my eyes tightly and shield my head

Nonetheless, l feel all of us toast your engorged yet weightless soul

as it

once again

Graduates

I want to stay in my lane, but predictively end up swerving

and I am intimidated

and I am scared

and it will be a while until I torment myself again