Back of the Class [[My Therapy]]

I pen the cure to my delusions that deem me insane/most times though I leave the medication laying around content to let life's issues coarse through my veins/ and sometimes it builds up and puts pressure on my brain/so I have to tap the right spot and allow the buildup to drain/ and spill forth from eye lids over and over again/only to press rewind and run it back frame by frame/knowing I should stop I accept full blame/but I refuse to stomach a reliever when my inspiration is pain...-Phoenix



Back of the Class

Limping down the hall I heard the bell ring
And then it started, one tear...the next
slamming into the folds of my sweater
staining it forever
like thick oil spilt on leather
I made it to my classroom, hobbled to the station where the teacher ruled the herd
ready to explain myself but her pursed lips halted my thoughts mid word
Ms. Claude I told you one more tardy and one detention it would be
she pointed to the the box for me to check acknowledging I knew the "Rule of Three"
but the Bruises on my back wouldn't allow me to see
I was blinded by the memory of him yelling about something to eat
walked up and snatched my lunchbox leaning and dripping venom
Slanted eyes powered by a cursed mind like he had something in him
"Bitch, if anybody gonna have lunch in this house it's gonna be me"
Now I'm all confused focused on my 8yr old feet
constantly feeling guilty for being the burden on the beast
living in this house daring us to sleep
You see
I was taken out of a bad situation and placed into one worse
had to occasionally witness him beat her down for taking me in after my birth
and I never understood why God blessed her with such a curse
why she had to be the tight beat holding down the verse
me spending countless night bribing my maker to rewind time and make me a 'W' or a 'Z'
anything but a 'X' or a 'Y', and Yup, he can have all of these, this 'L' and 'I' and 'F' and 'E'
I didn't want to be the cause of her misery
I would rather have been miscarried or tossed as a seed
wrapped securely in latex incinerated as garbage along with other debris
it's nothing to me no face no name but my soul'd be free
and I'd never have to witness him conjure up this hit list
send it out like a memo assuring me that I was next
all because she did her best
moved some things around wracked her brain
to make sure my untimely appearance wouldn't lead to a life lived in vain
opened her heart and clothed my premature frame
kissed me at night like I supplied the blood pulsing through her veins
I recall standing there wondering what my nourishment would be
ready to forget it altogether didn't want to breach the "Rule of Three"
and to this day the following scenes still seem surreal to me
watched my Mother stand up and raise her fist before him and God
and scream, I will die before I let you hurt my daughter
not one word did she falter
and that day he took her up on her threat
pounded her with words accenting her makeup with his fists
beat her 'til her lips turned blue
she blinked twice, guess he saw Hell in them cause he beat that out of her too
I suppose my eyes've always been bigger than my stomach
cause I ingested that all so fast I was too full to see anything else coming
and my little 8yr old feet couldn't move fast enough to dodge his rage
taking one massive open hand and palming my head
ricocheting my tiny body off the end rail of her bed
the wood kissing the crease of my back last thing I saw was white then red
mixed with rays of sun bleeding through the blinds spilling across my arms chest and legs
hearing sobs of anger and dread
I remember praying maybe this time I'm really dead
maybe God would cut out her heart before the ache would metastasize and spread
maybe I wouldn't ever be put in this predicament again
having to wrap my arms around her at night while she pays for my sins
you can't convince me that I was young and full of innocence
I was the problem not the solution and for this there was a punishment
but true to form she pleaded to Jesus in my defense
and true to form I lived another day w/little visible evidence
of these mishaps or court reported incidents
except the Bruises on my back that wouldn't shut up and let me see
what that teacher was pointing at, acknowledging the "Rule of Three"
and because I was capable of no response
she classified me as defiant while I held my tongue taught
searching for a way to explain that this tardy wasn't my fault
tried sending a message from my soul but maybe she felt harassed
maybe if I paid her to listen, I had allowance money, cold hard cash
but to her I was just another miscreant..a statistic...young black and fast
She gave me no more thought she never even asked
Was simply content to sign on the dotted line and send me limping to the back of the class...

(c)j.claude'09-Phoenix-