From inside my mother's womb, finding my thumb was swell.
The doctor reaching to get me, then popping me on the butt,
Being cleaned up and swaddled in a blanket,
Then her voice - I knew so much.
So many visitors wanted to see my tiny form,
Grandmas and Uncles and others I adored.
Months later I was baptized, water sprinkled on my head.
A commitment by my parents, to raise me as God lead.
Soon came my sisters, they seldom played apart.
Two younger siblings, I loved with all my heart.
We played together nicely, creative ways for sure,
I'm going to share a silly one, a little gross, not pure.
My mom was downstairs, when suddenly she thought,
"There's no noise upstairs, I wonder what they've got."
She opened the bedroom door and to her horror she did see,
My sister and I with our diapers off, throwing our poop and our pee.
Yes, we were covered, and yes our walls were, too.
But how can you punish a child who was created by you?
We both had baths, lots of bubbles and shampoo,
We love telling that story and I bet you would, too.
I don't want to talk about the days my eyes saw the belt,
Or his big hand to hit me or the pain that I felt.
The beatings were often, I begged and screamed, "no."
I shut off my feelings - I became numb,
This is when I wanted to go.
As I grew older and became more his size,
He would get in my face and stare angrily into my eyes.
It was a challenge to physically fight me, a flinch meant round one,
But I was sober, not stupid, even though I wanted a gun.
He hit me less often but developed a new trick.
He would shove his hand up under my chin and neck,
Against the wall he would slam me, his drunk breath I could smell,
Beady eyes and the surprise, I wanted him in hell.
I'm going to stop there, the recorder has much more.
But those viewings will be in my book, it's too draining from my core.
Suffice it to say our eyes see a lot and I'm grateful to God for this:
He has given me beauty in the ashes, for such a time as this.
