Birthplace. Birthrights. Birth.

Stepping over heaps of trash

Sleeping on nails, springs, brown saliva and old urine.

Woke up to the smell of a dead rat.

Untraceable.

Dead roaches in the window. Dust pouring out of the walls as fluent as the web spewing from a spider’s abdomen & just as soft.

My birth mother would rationalize but never medicate. She conned her way out of the jailhouse. She spoke well.

My name was never used. No respect. No love.

My purity was always in question from prostitutes & hookers.

He was a gang banger. He wore bandannas. 

Recorded lines. So he recorded me. What since?

Lord why do you leave me here day by day. Being overtaken by smoke & fried chicken. Burning garbage in the window. Burning skin in the pot. Burning myself with a curling iron. I wanted to get out. I wanted to be high. I lived in hell everyday.

Contamination and lies. Always being called that bitch.

Never a hello or a true goodbye.

Crying. Dying. Then satisfying. My best friend was a prostitute.

They warned me of perverts in the window. And murders on the levee. Where children loved to play.

There was a truck that chased me then disappeared. It was black with gold stripes. Very thin. Very visible. Very scary. I left.

They warned me of mojo at city gatherings. She was related. The incest haunts my spirit. I lived in hell.

Being raped outside. Suffering undefined. Running on my stomach next to unseen pit bull.

Never say a word. Never lifting hands. I knew better. He fell on his hips the day she stabbed me.

My forehead was kicked into and swollen for 4 years. I had a concussion and threw up. My eyes were bloody and I remember Popeye’s fried chicken and thinking of my dad. He was married.

So I died and died and died.

Cat feces covered my bottom in the winter time where I crawled and begged not to be. It was cold it was fresh and it stuck to my hands. I was obedient.

Spaghetti straps and low self-esteem.

Fried chicken. Fried porkchops.

I lived in jail. Turn the corner and my cell was around the block.

Broken bones in question. Never seen by a doctor. 

Education seemed near but ever so far away.

He was my best friend. He was tall and laughed at his pain. We talked of fatherlessness. We understood each other’s joys and sorrow. 

I regret betraying you. We betrayed each other. We watched each other smoke our lives away. We were two kids in the church who knew how to party.

There was so much pain inside. 

Both under 25.

His face would sometimes mimic a demon.

You watched me overdose while you moved bricks with my boyfriend. We were so smart. We were going to be somebody’s. We smoked our lives away and became statistics. 

One female. One male.

You knew all my secrets. I knew all your pain. I miss you. I love you. I pray that you finall got sober. I pray you didn’t lose your life. I watched you become a statistic. You watched me lose my soul.

Best friends. We loved God. We stripped like banana peels and melted under the heat of the drug war. We were both scared but never shared it. We gripped each other’s hand in the sinking sand.

My toilet fell through the floor. I got trapped by indoor manholes.

 HIV haunted the air & perverts discovered buried treasure.

Man over child. Woman over woman. Incest over insanity. 

Hot wings & guns. Weed and drug deals. Kids street fighting for fun. I lived in hell. The butcher knife told me so.

Hidden recordings and satanic hidden messages. Hidden money I was told. $33,000 times 3. What symbolism or what a lie? I don’t know anymore.

But the town drunks is always coming to my house. Screaming high hallelujahs and whilsting through her teeth. She said her heavenly hill was demon possessed. She swept the floor with her hands and spoke in tongues.

I count sixteen roaches on their back today.

So many cats. So many cats. It to tortured my heart. It strangled my soul. So many damn cats. 

They would trick next to my bedroom where I was forced to be invisible. 

One crackhead to the next.

It was always cold. 70 degrees or lower. One morning she sweated. Turning over in my bed with the door open. Where I laid my head. Where mama laid. She was a gay crack lord. She wore glasses and tended my wounds.

HIV ate her intestines and shriveled her stomach. Her bones were more visible than her eyes. She always imagined worms crawling out of her face. And she stole my last $100.00. All the money I had to my name. I was used to it.

I was poor, fat, drugged up & lived in shock. Hoping my hand would grow again.

I was strangled. I was strangled.

I was thrown in the mirror with a loud crash. It was destroyed beyond repair. I almost swallowed glass.

Fried chicken.

Spaghetti.

Fried chicken.

Spaghetti.

Fried chicken.

Fried chicken.

Fried chicken.

Insurance fraud.

Insurance fraud.

Debt on loans and secretly rich. Secret society. Hidden debt.

Black balling.

No peace. No love. She wore glasses. She was mama. She had secret affairs to married men, worshipped her girlfriend, always bathing children with the same hands she used to jack him off with. 

I walked in on her masturbating.

He wore brown shoes. I always hid. They never bothered me.

Easy sex, for easy crack.

Woke up the next day to the word bitch.

Clockwork. Always 5:59-6:03 in the morning. Angels never awoke with me.

I had a sleeping roach on my face. It was eating residue.

Everything was evil.

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