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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 7/19/2019 This darkness is all I know, a widow's wardrobe of funeral clothes. It hangs curtained under my eyes, the seed inside me grows allowing the little girl I was to die. Insomniac sleep walking down the streets, cautiously hopping turnstiles, custodians keep mopping up bloody streaks, lil girls dropping into the arms of pedophiles. Starving with no EBT no cash no food pantries no good Samaritans, stealing food just to eat, then dash, pockets full of candy, passing by rich Americans. What if I got caught? Will I get locked? Did that man call the cops? It's hot on the block... Once I made it out, my anxiety was gone. If I did it to survive, was it really wrong? Baptized after birth, couldn't save me from Satan's temptations, a child of God selling swipes at the train station. Soon I was boosting designer clothes for girls at the Bronx shelter, taking extra jobs with BB, when my roommate asked I ain't tell her, Cuz she introduced me to the Brownsville ocks, that traded cash for Enfamils n' Similacs we copped, Paranoia-they'd catch me soon if I got cocky, close call-I rang off n' ran so fast nobody could stop me. Now I was bumming bogies for free, selling loosies for a dollar a piece, graduated to the loyal clientele of fiends, weed and crack to young adults and teens, 12 year old boy Iron Man backpack strap clinging to one shoulder, if I sold him crack what was my limit? 10 and over? Quit the business but my hustle continued, In Rego park on a block I'd never been to. In a hotel room with a man 3x my age, this man reflected my father as faces began to fade. I wish I'd popped a pill so I could numb all feeling, but I talked good game and changed into an outfit more appealin', I danced around the room...he tried to touch...I said I'm teasin', watching the clock his hour was up $300 and I was leaving, Ran back to the train and jumped on the 7 back home, prayed to God for forgiveness and blocked his number off my phone. Nothing could instill fear in my heart, I seen it all, been through it all. Except the fear of who I'd now become, if I beckoned to God would the Devil answer my call? A friend overdosed and I loved an addict but how could I weep? When I had been responsible for bringing their poison onto the streets? All my life I feared death....no I feared nothing at all, until my baby takes her first breath, near or far from my tree will her apple fall?
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