Memoir Part 1

Victim of circumstance.  Blameless child.  Abandoned in the womb, yet approved? Standing high, casting shadows and stones. Control is best conquered when divided. Blood without bonds ensured no alliances formed.   A stern rod disciplined a strong wrath on spawn she spat trash, plagued weak, mere followers.  Broken, tattooed across small hearts desperate to please for a crumb of affection, starved.  Powerful stinging verbs nourished gnawing lost souls. Publicly praised for pretty perfections.  Perceptions of deceptions, mastered. Countless betrayed tears stained stolen years of youth. Children Pray "if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take" lost all innocence once wished.  Gods word was only to be found in the King James Bible, Southern Independent Baptist ruled with an iron fist fashion belief.  Harsh tones stated, never quoted beliefs from that leather bound book that sat on the back of a beauty shop hair dryer, that served as a punishment seat to wait out executions with the leather strap to be picked as instructed by the one who displeased or disobeyed. Sometimes it would seem like hours before the door would open.  To kill the time reading the book was bout the only thing to do. No matter how much time passed, that door opening caused a jump like startle.  Fear knew what was to come.

Years did pass sullenly taking and taking.  Prayers were for unconditional love.  Love had a high price that couldn't be met, for it was never stable.