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…

