*a memoir under construction DEAR GOD, a memoir in verse

1.

Dear God

You were there

In Sunday school

Miss Williams said You were everywhere

The five of us were there

In the small white tent next door

I don't remember any of their names

Only hands

Only fingers

Hers

The big girl's hand pressed against my red barrettes

Pushing and pulling my head on his dick

It was not like peppermint or Bit O Honey

It was a Bomb Pop and Big Stick

But not sweet and orange

It was Play Do left open

Ashy and uncared for

Pointing and ready for me

To suck

I was four and he was nineteen
I think

He was a black boy

Wore faded blue jeans

And a half smile on his dark brown and bumpy looking face

What was his name, God

You know the number of hairs on our heads

Like the song says

You knew his name

And his smell

And his eyes

And her hands

You knew why, God

Rev. Ford said

God is always in control

The girls were sixteen and seventeen
I think

There was another boy

Little like me

He didn't have to suck dick

Because the big boy wasn't no fag

There was just me

My tiny lips and throat

And a dick

A dick, God

I always knew that boys had pee pees

But this was my first dick

Do pee pees grow into dicks

I must have done a real good job

Way she inhaled hiss and ahhhed and watched with the others

Then there was wet that was not spit from my choke

God, are dicks always so messy and wet

He peed in my mouth

He peed in my mouth

I screamed and ran out the tent

I tried to race to my house

Just next door to my father

Who would beat that dick up if he knew

The youngest and meanest of the big girls caught me

Tied a thick brown rope around my neck

Lifted me to the clothes line post cemented in the ground

Held my body as it swung

This post was not for sun drying dresses and skirts

To be worn on Sundays with lace stockings and black shoes

This post was a four year old's Calvary

Jesus wept and I did too

Did You leave Jesus alone

Was Jesus scared

Did Jesus wonder why he was so bad

Her lips close as a prayer when she threatened if I told

Said I was a nasty girl anyway

Said she would run tell my mother first

Said I was out here being fass

Being all nasty

I was dirty

I have been nasty and dirty ever since

Are You the same God

The one who could never 

Get me quite clean

No matter my awards or deeds

No matter how fast I forgave

No matter the down ass / ride or die bitch I proved myself to be

I never got clean

2. 

When I got home

I don't remember what I did 

I remember I was afraid

I had something to hide

Not like I had done something bad

I WAS something bad

I was a thing now

Not sugar and spice

I was mud and wet grass

I was hard rocks and trash

I knew You didn't like bad

Knew my parents could never find out

The nasty thing I did

Put my mouth on a big boy's penis and sucked

It didn't matter the girls made me 

I still did it

I still sucked

Except I wasn't sucking at all 

Was choking on a dick

Too big for my lips

Too heavy for my throat

No good girl would ever do that 

I was a sinner 

A dirty sinner

A fass ass dirty sinner

That night my mother gave me a bath

Asked me about the rope burn and I lied

I said I was playing a game

I knew she didn't believe me

Now I was a lying fass ass dirty sinner

I don't remember what happened to the dick

Or the little boy

Or the two girls next door

I don't remember them babysitting me anymore after that

Did You hear my prayers, God

Did You hear them after that

Do You ever listen now

My dolls weren't the same anymore

My coloring books either

My mother was pregnant with my sister

I was too little to play with the neighborhood kids

Didn't matter though

What would we play

Games weren't the same anymore

There was a dick

3. 

Thank You, God for blessing me 

With a child of my own

No one owns another body

No matter how new

My little boy is Yours

And his

He belongs to himself

There are days I stare at him

As he plays

He likes to be Spiderman

He likes The Muppet Babies

I watch him as he sleeps

I am always afraid

I am afraid of strangers

Way they look at him

Way they walk past

I have to leave him sometimes

My breath does not belong to me

Until I see his face again

Until I see his dirty fingers

Don't leave him, God

Don't leave him alone

Please 

Please

I ask him questions

When we are alone

About people

About touches

About daycare

About play

He doesn't understand

I think he is annoyed 

I hug him too long

My whole head in his face

He says my hair is too knife in his face
Too prickly and sharp

He pulls away first

Sometimes I think he knows

How dirty I am 

There are days, God

When the clouds are too heavy

For my head to hold

I am afraid

I want to see You face to face

I want to be out there where You are
I want to become a butterfly
A tree
I want to live in the sky
The clay
The sea

Too many days
Too many thoughts

I don't know why

Will You be there for him

Will You watch him grow up

Will You tell him how sorry I am 

I cannot explain to him

The weight of this dirt

How heavy the thoughts that come

From nowhere

From everywhere

Since early middle school 

The waves too crashing

The sadness too deep

My baby did not make me clean

Did not save me

Is not enough to make me stay

I am afraid

4. 

I pick him up from daycare
I don't sign him out and leave as usual
I sit instead
I talk to Mrs. Debbie

I am on the same couch

Close to her face

She is older now

I am older too

She remembers me

When I was a little girl

In the choir at church

On the junior usher board

All my Easter speeches

We talk and remember together

Our days in the church

I tell her Rev. Hunter

Used to kiss me with his tongue

Every

Every 

Time

Deep in my mouth

When I was a little girl

Even when I was older
When I would extend my cheek
He would grip my chin
With his forefinger and thumb
Who would have believed me
What would I have said

I am ashamed to tell her

How afraid of him I was

Afraid to tell

To run

To move

To cry

I am ashamed to tell her my filth

My sin

I stop talking

Just drink my tea

Mrs. Debbie is quiet

I wish I could take my words back

Roll them into a ball

Flush them down the toilet

Maybe she won't believe me

Why would a reverend touch me

She puts down her drink

Turns to me slow

I know

She says

We all knew

I am still as a grave

I am magnet to questions that land on me

Like bricks

Like fire

They stick like leeches and lies

I cannot speak

There is dirt in my mouth

Dirt in my hair

In my shoes 

Dirt in my bones

I want to die

I want to be a whisper

A breeze

Anything but me

5.

The mania is what scared me the most

The mania still scares me

People talk about how hard the depression is

And it is

Depression is horrible and heavy

But I have some control
I couldn't even talk to You
Not even You

When I'm manic it's like there is another woman

Living in my body

That bitch hype

I am a rag doll

Blindly obeying

I can see myself from outside myself

Talking fast and loud

Arms moving wildly

I'm way too crunk

With all the hyper energy come thoughts
Thoughts that come too fast
Thoughts I can't control

I translate them into demands of a bully to play dangerous games

When I am driving the voices tell me to glide off a cliff

Jump off a bridge

Buy the rat poison

Shoot myself in the head

The thoughts go on

There is always another game
Can You hear the too
Do You know what I mean

That night back in June

It was pills

For weeks I had been rapidly cycling between

Depression and mania

That was a switch

From the quicksand of depression I had barely been breathing through

I was having panic attacks

Almost every night

I was afraid of being alone

I was always sad

I was way too sad

I was afraid of everything

Afraid of quiet

Of noise

Of light

Of dark

Mostly I was afraid of being alone

My son worked long shifts

On days and nights I didn't work

I would sit in the parking lot at Target for hours

Five hours

Six

I was still working

I taught a writing class

Worked as a caregiver

I sold my paintings

Performed poetry
Tried to praise You when I could
To be thankful for what I had

Everything I did

I had to do with a happy face

I kept on the table in front of the couch

I was sleeping on the couch

I was afraid of being alone in a room

Afraid of the kitchen

Afraid of the shower

The thoughts were calm at first

Usually in a manic state they are pushy

It was like talking to a good friend

"You don't have to take all the pills

Just enough so you can get some good sleep

That's not enough

Just a few more

You will be fine

Just to get some good sleep

That's all

Some good good sleep"

I swallowed more pills

Then more

Then more

I knew this was for more than good sleep

This was for the best sleep ever

The thing about depression and mania

Is that you believe the thoughts

At least I believed them

Why would a voice in my head lie to me

Maybe the voice was You

Maybe the voice knew things I didn't

It had to

I believed that everyone would be better without me

Believed I was a burden to my son

Believed everyone was staring at me

Could see right through me

I am not dirty

I am not trash

Or bad

Or the devil

Or any of the things the thoughts told me before

I am incredible

Am strong and a gift
Made in Your image
Right
You

I know this

I don't know this during an episode

I was deep in one

I felt myself drifting to sleep

I remember praying

I remember floating

I slept the whole next day

My son left for work in the morning

When he returned that evening I was still on the couch

The next day I was present to what I had done

What I had done

Not the voices or thoughts

I did it to myself

I knew I should check back into the hospital

I have been in a psych ward before

No way was I ever going back

Ever ever

I was afraid to tell my doctor

Afraid to tell anyone

I was consumed with sadness and guilt

I drove to my mom's house

I knew I wouldn't have to talk

We sat in the living room

Watched a movie together

I wanted to tell her

I needed to get it out

I didn't know how

The movie was over and I dived

"I took a bunch of pills

I took a lot"

No mother can hear that easily from her child

I know

I knew she wouldn't know what to say

But I needed to say it
I knew that she loved me
I know that she does

She changed the subject

So fast my neck jerked

I understood

This was the family way

This is how my family has dealt with trauma

They become ghosts

They

We

How was I different

I tried to leave too

To become invisible

A past tense

To escape the pain of now

I was numb as a tooth

I had no tears

No anger either

What did I even want

We were not mushy women after all

We were not huggy and kissy

We were shoelaces

She and I 

Coming in and out of holes
Twisting

Knotting up
Wrapping into pretty bows
Holding on tight
Coming apart
Wrapping up nicely again

Suicide was not pretty

Or positive
Or neat
Or forgivable

It was sin

And forever
And here I was again
Being this way
All ungrateful
Dropping this load

I don't remember what she said

Something though

Then walked into her room

And stayed