28.   Monsters from your closet : Something featuring the creatures that kept you up at night as a kid. Mode of creation open- ( 4 pts)

Cursed

you cursed me
to be of your descent

black hair and olive skin
burnt eyes
from hatred deep within
i know this and your name
but not another
recollection
besides the pain
some personality quirks
and too many  lies

i hate to hate you
never could love you
there’s nowhere in between

i know. i know.
“good intentions.  no harm meant.”

 the smell of
beer and smoke
makes me sick to think of you

the                                                   bruises                                               fade                                            away
into                                                                               my                                                                             soul
staining                                               me                                                   with                                              you
worst                                                                            of                                                                                 all
over                                                                                                                                                               time
i see your shadow in me

“…worthless…bad daughter…not a waste of time…you don’t love me…i won’t give up on you…not even worth a dime…”

your voice fades
slurring in and out
blurry through tears
i never let fall
as you force me to do things
things i neverwant to do

i picture your shadow
in the dining room
i hear the

POP

of a can
but there’s no                                  fizz
like from soda pop
it’s more of a

SHHHhhhh…

silently i try to blend in
with the couch
as i paint my world
with color
through a coloring book
and eight crayons
i color the night
into an end

my Boo-Boo kitty
spikes her fur and runs
as he collapses in the chair
almost on her

his eyes begin to fall
while he does not
speak to me
i watch quietly
behind three year old eyes
i would not dare
to move a moment too soon

right as the can
slips loose
i take it from his hand
it takes two of my
little hands to hold

off to my room to change
into light pink PJs
i stop to grab my kitty
squeeze her tight like a doll
our faces both buried
in black fur
she knows
i’m just as scared as her
and Boo-Boo Kitty
begins to purr

it’s off to the bathroom
where the ceiling bows
like it’s attacking me
from the leaky pipe above
the black tip drops
a steady drip
into the waiting bucket
i’m scared of it

i want to cry out
to daddy to save me
but i know better
daddy’s sleeping
in the chair
“Daddy!  Daddy!
Bedtime!  I ready!”

he does not move

pull on his arm
pull on his leg
push him
shake him
hard as i can

is he dead?
i lay still upon his chest
it gives a slight rise
he must be alive
“Daddy!  Daddy!
Wake up!  Wake up!”
tears grow in my eyes

he won’t wake up again

fear grips my tiny body so tight
tears roll down my face

i pull off each shoe
laces first
one… two…
push them out of the way
so he won’t trip and blame me
i cover him
with a blanket as best i can
and leave the light on

click on my unicorn light
then crawl up on my water  bed
the steady rocking
puts my tired eyes to sleep

just one dark
lonely night
of memories
that haunts my sleep
tonight

seventeen years later
bruises heal into scars
shadows fade to stains

how could you give me
nothing else
besides scars and stains
and sleepless nights
i don’t even
have your name

sirens scream into the night
waking me with a fright
"DADDY!  DADDY!"
i cry
i beat my tiny fists into his chest
before i rest my head
listening for a heartbeat
or to feel a breath

to this day
sirens haunt my sleep
ripping apart
already broken dreams

tonight

twenty-two years later
bruises heal into scars
shadows fade to stains

but still cursed
being of your descent

to love me in such
a hateful way

Dear Santa~

Unfortunately, I can't ask for material things this Christmas, but seeing that you are Santa, I know you can deliver.

I'm asking for magic, miracles, and hope - not for me, but for those who seem to be running short.

You see... this Christmas will be the first some of my students experience.  They will experience their first Christmas tree with presents under it.  They won't have a "real" family to open presents with on Christmas morning, but they will have a staff and 8 house mates.   

Some of those teenagers don't necessarily want the material gifts...I mean, they want them.  They will smile, take them, and use them.  In reality, what they want more than anything is a family - some of them want their family back, some of them want foster parents who are willing to take them in and make them a part of the family.  Some of these boys lack hope - they don't believe it's possible.  How could they?  After years and years and years of abuse?  After years of failure and ending up in a specialized group home because they've "failed" everywhere else they've been?

Some will pack their bags after unwrapping presents.  Why?  Because they've never seen a Christmas tree or unwrapped gifts.  Don't people only give things or pretend to care about you when you're leaving?

So you see...
I've come to value and treasure these boys.  I want nothing but the best for them.

And Santa?

If anyone can bring magic and hope to their lives, I know it's you.  I'm sure these teenage boys are typical teenagers; too full of pride to ask for help.  That's why I've written on their behalf.  So do you think it's possible?  Can you deliver some magic and hope to them this Christmas season?  Maybe pull of a few miracles and deliver families?

Thank you for your consideration.