Jasmine Alleva
Nov 3 · 1 min read

I Didn’t Know What I Was in For

When my mouth opened
and I shook the rows of seats
with my voice
They looked like church pews
full of sinners
casting judgment
on the man who gave me my eyes and my heart
and the vocal chords vibrating into
a homily, a testimony, a defense of character
of a convict, of the downtrodden, of the midunderstood
of my dad
And he wasn’t there that day
And no one was hurt
But him and us and me
And I ripped the hands that were over my mouth
Plucking their fingers from my lips
for two decades
and screamed
and screamed
all of the pain that had coiled in my stomach
unraveling through my throat
it had constricted my lungs
but I…

Keep the story going. Sign up for an extra free read.

You've completed your member preview for this month, but when you sign up for a free Medium account, you get one more story.
Already have an account? Sign in

Jasmine Alleva

I was born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska, growing up in a warehouse in Anchorage's industrial district. Now I live in airports and stand in front of cameras.

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade