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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Paris at 51 Bless me Father for I have sinned it has been forty years since my last confession. My life Hell, I seek Heaven. I ran away from home at eleven. Sold my body. Fell to drugs. I now pray for direction. The roots of my tree carry branches that are bare. God sent me to his orchard to bear fruit,pollinate, to nurture life and subsist,not be His vice and burden. On these streets outside this church, I have sinned. I have sold my body to eat and gain shelter off the streets. The first time it was so cold, a warm voice was a refuge. Since that day I fell, my young spirit broken, into the cesspool of life. I ran.From fear,life,mom, pimps. I sit before you, father, in this cubicle, separated by a black screen and curtain and take these masks off. What you see is an eleven year old, fresh, full of life in her mom's bosom, cuddled and loved. With so much to look forward to .. bunny hops, Bobby Sox, boys.. that never grew up. Or blossomed.I cry at how I wasted life. I hurt mom, and myself. I kneel and pray before you, Father. "Child, I see the tears in your eyes, hear the sincerity in your voice and sense your loss, as if your entire life has been an bereavement. I empathized," believe me. "Life is a mystery, it has trigger points, forks in the road, even a loss of parent, for example, can be traumatic to a young child." Pools of tears run down my eyes. Every word the priest said is true, as I stare ... off into the past, regressing of the nights of sleeping with many of the men. Taking this pie money, giving half to big daddy, and the other half to crack and ... a continuous cycle, intoxicating and addicting, where fear lurked in of being beaten by big daddy if his slice of the pie was small. My attention snapped back. "Child, go now, God will be your shepherd," He prayed. " Please be healing, repenting for your salvation." I got up and left, thank you father. A voice in my head said Paris, is finally going to Paris, my pet phrase, because I always joke it will never happen to me because I don't have the deliverance and cleansing. But maybe now with God being my shepherd. I exit the rows of pews, with other parishioners giving me the kind of look "of why did you take so long." If they only knew. I walk out of the church, into the Seattle night, streets. I see young girls selling, a flash back to forty years ago. I keep walking towards home, my partner, Sandy Laffe, aka tree sap, from the hotel. connie pachecho 1/4/16
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