mary OF bethany

I was once some one’s daughter…
I was birthed just outside my mother’s womb,
encapsulated by her dread.
My familial blood line
and pulse feed the inherent fear
(that has been) tattooed upon us
since man evolved from all fours
to beast.
Loneliness and laughter engulf me
like indecisive walls of forgotten sentiment.
Jaggedly they pummel against my intellect and will
thrashing any remnant
of conviction and good judgment…
And I float.
I float like a perplexed
arch angel
reddened by the viciousness
of hypocrisy
and the compulsion of duty…
I loom,
like the 13th apostle courageously
carrying out
an heroic feat of treason
embarrassed by the
twelve’s valiant gesture of
redemption.
I hover atop whimsical
dreams and streams
that seems convincingly conniving.
I’ve been here before;
the colors have never been more deceitful.
Red and yellow dye dying skies
a vivid, fleeting fiery shaded hue.
Rays of arctic orange,
burn cold, no hint of blue.
I’m crying, lying and dying
for a glimpse of you…
Yet all the colors in the world
could never tint the sterility of white
over the selfishness of black,
painting my world
UNINSPIRING…
Wrinkled and crumpled
life’s graying arms,
timidly embrace
my humored aloneness;
holding me like my mother
motionless and unconscious
affected only by the warmth
of her memories’ mortality.
And I feel secure all around for the very first time.
This is my inheritance,
a life on bended knees
lacking absolution and thoughtful prayer.
Exchanging my womanly humanness
for survival and change..
the clink and chill of silver
fall through fingers
and quickly as the last john’s semen
from my tongue and cheek.
Cheeky, I know, but
I was once someone’s daughter
before I was swallowed by these streets.
can i not be forgiven?
I stand behind you weeping
in shame,
my hair, unkempt,
not worthy to wash your feet...
To be continued.
kdtaylor, 2009
Section 8 Coffee
All rights reserved..

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this was a writing lab project,
used a Scrabble letter (l) picked the word loneliness
and then from the AMAZING K.O.R.I.M.
I chose a line from a poem he recently wrote about his sister..
"open arms, hold me like my mother, secure for the first time"
i switched them around a bit...
Also, I'm hoping to use this as my first human trafficking piece..
don't know..