Saturday, November 26, 2011

Roll of The Dice


The image comes to me
Like flash photography
His hands on my body
Click click, click click
Did I ask him to frisk me?
I consented to a kiss
Something sweet and innocent
What exactly did he hear?
I feel filthy
His hot breath in my ear
Whispering obscenities
My heart pounding with a thunderous roar
So loud that it could
Shatter my chest
Never knew I could cringe
At the sound of my own name
His fingers crawling under my shirt
On rout to my breast
I pull his hands away
And push as hard as I can
He’s pinning me to his mattress
It squeaks with every twist
I turn hoping to find some form of escape
I hear him panting
Hold me he says
Squeeze my ass
I tell him NO!
Don’t touch me
Get off me, get off me
My mind is running on fast forward
Oh gosh, what’s coming next?
How can I get away?
I have to breathe
I have to breathe
I can’t breathe
He’s still pinning me
Has he done this before?
The music is so loud
No one will hear me
Get off me
Stop
No, I have to come he says
Oh my gosh
Lord please help me
He is really going to do this
I’ve known him for years
How could
Why would
Did he just say he had to come?
Come where?
I will never let him cross the threshold
Of my temple
No matter how much kicking and pushing
Has to be done
Ok that’s it
He’s gonna get off of me
Stop!  Get off me!
GET THE HELL OFF ME!
Something came over me
This burst of strength
This force from within me
GOD listened when I pleaded with him
I pushed him with all my might
Grabbed my purse
And bolted down the stairs
Didn’t have time for
Niceties
No good byes or thank you for having us
My energy was focused on getting out of that house
Down the stairs past all the people
Dressed in their best summer white
Jamming to the latest hit played by the DJ
Through the double doors
Down the stoop and up the block to my car
I could hear him calling my name
Can’t let him catch up to me
Wish I could magically blink myself
Out of these heels and into my front seat
Yelling ahead at my sister and cousin
Get in the car
They appear puzzled by my pace and
The tone of desperation in my voice
They jump in the car and I snatch my keys
Out of my sister’s hands
I jump in the front seat
And tell them lock all the doors
Seconds pass and he appears
Pleading with me
Not to depart like this
Talk to him
Get out of the car
I’m not about to become a victim
Not yours or anyone else’s
So get gone
Get out of my way
And with my lead foot I stepped on that gas
And left him standing on the sideline
Probably wishing I wasn’t so strong
Or so fast in heels

Fall Back! (oldie but goodie)


I never claimed to be a reflection of perfection
So please don’t set out on a mission
To find fault with me
Don’t find reasons to discredit me
Edit my words and actions
To what you perceive them to be
Blame me when you find yourself
Falling too fast too soon
Singing that same tune bout
How the roles seem reversed
And in this relationship
I’m the one playing the dude
Assume not that all happenings
Are a direct result of my past experiences
I bounce back fast!
Believe me this
House of cards is not made of stone
There’s no super glue holding this structure together
Don’t get me wrong
I’m not light as a feather but
I go through ups and downs
I tear, bend, break, and crack
And at the end of the day
I stand on my own two feet
And put it all back
This wasn’t a misdeal or a gotcha gotcha
I laid it out straight for you
You were well informed
I dealt you the plain truth
I’ve been the only face card
In this deck for longer than I can recall
So yes, on occasion you will hit a brick wall
But even the highest and mightiest
Have been known to fall
I just choose to do it discretely
For only my eyes to see
So don’t be deceived by your
Notions that I am affected by nothing
That I feel nothing
Don’t poke and prod to generate a reaction
And pass judgment when it isn’t even a fraction
Of what you expected it to be
Don’t try to force me out
Of my comfort zone
Fill your mind with doubt
Constantly comparing your feelings to mine
I move at my own pace
I’m the winner of my own race
They say slow and steady always wins
And the prize is my heart
But if you aren’t ready to receive it
Fall back!
Let someone else take the lead

Thursday, November 17, 2011

How Did I Get Here?


I’ve always had a thing for accents.  It might have started when I first came to this country.  I used to watch TV and pick up the accents so that I could get rid of mine.  It helped a lot because once I learned how to speak like an American, I didn’t have to perform for all those who would ask me to “talk like they do where you’re from,” or   “let me hear your accent!”  I never thought my love of accents would land me here.
He worked at the local video store.  I was looking for a movie. I can’t really remember which one at the moment.  However, I had to ask him for it because there weren’t any copies out.  I asked if anyone had returned a copy that they hadn’t put back on the shelf as yet.  Mid sentence I noticed the chestnut color of his eyes and almost lost track of what my point was.  When he opened his mouth to answer my question, I swear I heard music playing.  It was like someone planted a kiss on each of my ears and it sent tingles everywhere.   He spoke with a British accent.  I don’t know if black girls really blush, but I’m sure my face was the color of the reddest rose.  After that night, I spent more time in the video store than I did watching the videos I rented.  I would always say hello and give my brightest smile hoping that he would notice me.  I never thought flirting with the guy in the video store would get me here.
We started hanging out.  I would meet him when he got off work or when he had the day off.  We would watch movies at his house.  He lived on the other side of town so I would have to take the bus to get there.  He would meet me at the bus stop and we would walk to the house together.  When it was time for me to go home, he would walk me back to the bus.  He would also meet me when I got off work at the supermarket.  He liked to walk me home if I was working late.  I remember this one night in particular when we stayed on my side of town.  He was walking me home and it started to drizzle.  Normally I would rush to cover my hair or hurry in the house but with him, there was no reason for alarm.  I felt safe, and could care less about the expected rain that would follow the drizzle.  We stopped at the end of my block, under the streetlight.  I remember him seeming nervous for some reason.   And that’s when he asked me.  No one had ever taken the time to be nervous much less ask in such a sweet way.  He asked if I would consider being his girlfriend.  I didn’t even have to think about it.  I said yes.    Anyway, the rain started getting heavier and I looked up at the streetlight and saw the drops as they landed on my face.  When I looked back at him, he leaned in and kissed me.  All I could hear was rain and its musical sound landing on the ground and the leaves from the trees, and the roof tops of the houses.  Everything was magnified, including the tingles down my spine.  I never thought that kiss would get me here.
We went to my junior prom together.  It was weird.  None of the guys wanted to dance.  My girlfriends and I decided to take to the dance floor, while our dates stewed around the table.  When the DJ played Black Sheep’s “This or that”, we all started getting really low as the song said, “Engine, engine number nine, on the New York transit line...” As soon as they said, “pick it up, pick it up, pick it up,” we were up jumping up and down in our prom dresses.  We had to show our dates that it didn’t matter that they didn’t want to dance with us.  We were going to enjoy ourselves by any means necessary.  By the end of the night it didn’t even matter because it was junior prom and senior prom was the one that we really cared about.  We were all talking about what we were going to do after prom.  We rode in the car with my girlfriend Shay and her boyfriend Wynn.  They juggled ideas about what they were going to do.  I almost felt like a burden on them because they had to coordinate their plans around us.  I wasn’t sure of what they decided.  All I know is they ended up dropping us off at one of those highway motels.  They told us they would be back in a couple hours. Though my heart pounded extra fast, I got out the car and watched them drive away.  I never said stop or don’t leave.  I walked into the room knowing that I would be different when I walked out. The room had a huge bed and mirrors on the ceiling.  I’m not sure if I expected to ever end up here.
A few weeks later, I was really sick at school.  I asked to go to the bathroom, and before I could make it there, I threw up in the hallway.  It was really gross.  I think I threw up three times all in that one day.  I started to worry when one of my friends cracked a joke asking if I was pregnant.  Later I asked Shay to go with me to have a pregnancy test taken.  We went to the Planned Parenthood clinic.  Shay had agreed to go with me because she wanted to take a test too.  She had missed her period but for some reason didn’t seem as worried as I was.  We went into the back one at a time to take our tests.  Then we had to go back outside in the waiting area and sit patiently until they called our names.  We sat there trying to take our minds off the test results.  We cracked jokes about what our reactions would be if we both came up pregnant.  I even found myself comforting her at one point when she finally sounded like this was stressing her out.  The nurse called Shay to the back first.  It was like time froze for a few minutes.  We looked at each other and then she got up to go receive her sentencing.  When Shay returned she was all smiles.  She was fine.  The nurse told her that if she had changed her diet recently or been stressed out, it could prevent her period from coming at its expected time.  I was so happy for her. 
I started to think that maybe the same thing would apply for me.  When I heard the nurse call my name, I wasn’t as scared because of Shay’s results.  There was no way that I could be pregnant.  Things like that just didn't happen to me, until now.  Something was different when the nurse returned.  She seemed different somehow.  She asked me again about the date of my last period.  She had this wheel that had months and dates on it.  Then she dropped the bomb on me.  She said that based on the dates I had provided; I was between 6 or 7 weeks pregnant.  She asked me what I was thinking about doing.  I wasn’t thinking about anything.  I couldn’t even hear her anymore.  I was hearing all the things people would say about me.  I heard my family’s voices.  They never say anything good when it comes to this type of news.  I wanted to get out of there.  I needed to get myself out of this situation all together.  What was I going to do?
While all this was happening, his ex girlfriend was trying to work her way back into his good graces.  I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me.  However, she would pass me on the street and give me strange looks or whispers when she was with her friends.  I didn’t know what to make of it until he told me who she was.  I hoped that by telling him I was pregnant, I wouldn’t send him running right back into her arms.  I must have had a sixth sense or something because that was exactly what happened.  Telling him I was pregnant felt like I was holding explosives in my hand and as soon as I let the words out, it would be like releasing the detonator.  I tried to tell him that I needed his support through this.  I needed it more than ever because I made the decision to get rid of the baby.  I was a junior in high school.  I had my whole future ahead of me.  I couldn’t get derailed.  Then it happened; the thing I never imagined.  The words that would crush my entire world, and break my heart to pieces came rolling off his tongue.  “How do I know it is mine? I don’t know who else you could be dealing with.”  I looked at him in silence for a long time because I wasn’t sure who was standing in front of me.  Was it the same guy I had been dealing with for months or was it some stranger?  Was it the same guy with the smooth dark chocolate colored skin, chestnut colored eyes, and the British accent, or was it the devil?   I couldn’t believe he had said that to me.  I didn’t even want to argue with him I just wanted to haul my behind out of there.  I made it home so fast that I don’t even remember which way I took to get there.  When I closed the door behind me I felt week.  My knees buckled under me and I slid down the door in tears.  I was always home alone during the day so I didn’t worry about anyone hearing me.  I was devastated and confused.  I just kept asking myself why this was happening to me.  What did I do wrong? Did I deserve this?  How did I get here?
He didn’t help me with anything.  He didn’t contribute at all.  I had to save all my money to pay for the procedure.  I had to borrow from one of my managers at the supermarket.  I promised I would pay it back by our next pay period.  I had to get my neighbor to drop me off at the clinic that morning.  He also promised to pick me back up.  As I walked through the doors I felt like I was dreaming.  This was all one ridiculous nightmare and it would all come to an end in a few short hours.  Shay didn’t even have my back through this.  Once she was in the clear and I wasn’t, she basically forgot all about the fact that we were supposed to be friends.  I walked in there alone.  I passed the people outside picketing with their signs and hand made posters.  It didn’t matter to me what they had to say because I was determined to complete this process.  I couldn’t help but think that alone would probably be the best place to be for a long while after this.    It might just ensure that I never end up in this predicament ever again.
They made me sit in room for a few minutes when they took me out of the waiting area.  I had to have some type of counseling session.  I don’t know how they figured five or ten minutes of counseling was going to do anything for the damage I was going to be dealing with after all of this.  While sitting in the room I got sick and they gave me a garbage can to throw up in.  I kept apologizing but they told me not to worry because it happens more often than not.  I guess I should have known that.  They put me in another room and told me to change out of all my clothes and put on the gown and bonnet that they provided.  When I was done they wheeled me into the operating room.  It was an all white room with bathroom tiled walls.  All the nurses and doctor already had masks on and gowns.  When I met the doctor, he seemed very cold.  Seemed like he was just thinking of me as a number because he would have several procedures to complete that day.  He told me to start counting back from 100.  I kept thinking, why 100? Why not from 20 or 50 or something smaller?  100, when I wake up this would be a distant memory. 99, thank God I didn’t have to involve my family in this. 98, they might have shipped me off somewhere like back in the days when girls got sent away until they delivered.  97, I’m feeling kind of sleepy. 96, can’t really count anymore.  95, they don’t play with these meds.
A nurse calling my name awakened me; telling me I had to get up.  The way she shook me was cold and mean.  It was as if they needed the bed so they were rushing me to get up out of it.  She asked who was picking me up.  I told her a friend.  She handed me the phone and told me to call my ride.  I called a couple times but He didn’t answer.  I told the nurse I got no answer.  She said they needed my ride to come get me and I couldn’t take a cab home.  I had to start calling all my friends that drove or had access to cars because I had no idea what happened to my neighbor.  I called Shay thinking that her boyfriend might be able to come and get me.  She made some calls but came up short.  She suggested I call our friend Harrison.  I called him, and he said he would come and get me.  I was relieved because I really felt like crap from the meds they knocked me out with.  My head was spinning really fast.  I had to sit down.  However, the nurse wouldn’t let me lay in the bed for a few more minutes.  I had to get dressed and wait in the waiting area for Harrison.  Harrison arrived about twenty minutes after I called him.  He was with his sister.  He told me that she works at the clinic but that day in particular had been her day off.  Without saying much, she sympathized with what I was going through.  She suggested that I have something to eat because it would help me come down off the medication and my body would feel better.  Although I didn’t want Harrison telling anyone what I had done that morning, I didn’t mind him bringing his sister.  We drove to IHop and had breakfast.  We talked but not about my procedure.  I didn’t feel like I was under a microscope at all.
A few weeks later, my mom asked me to go take some movies back to the video store.  Though I didn’t want to, I walked and prayed that I didn’t see him working.  I wasn’t so lucky.  He saw me and tried to chat me up.  He had the nerve to tell me that his ex girlfriend was telling him that the baby wasn’t his and that she knew I was seeing someone else.  He actually believed her.  He wanted to get back together.  Guess he thought that all would be forgiven.  I told him that us being back together would never happen.  I would never care about him in the same way.  He could never be trusted with my heart again.  Accidents do happen unfortunately but I wasn’t going to crash and burn by allowing him to get close to me again.  I explained to him that if it weren’t for some amazing friends in my life, I would have been stuck.  He didn’t support me through the process, he didn’t even contribute half of the cost.  I told him I was fine where he left me, alone.  I told him he could take his smooth dark chocolate colored skin, his chestnut colored eyes, and his British accent right back to his ex girlfriend.  Seemed to me that was the place where he wanted to be.  I wasn’t really sure how I got to this place, this point in my life, this test of strength, but I knew it wasn’t about him.  It stopped being about him when he decided to take another female’s word over mine.  I didn’t know how I got here but I knew I was walking away with my head held as high as I could possibly hold it.  I may never forget him or this point in my life but I wouldn’t let it make me bitter.  I wouldn’t let it consume me.  Getting here was no longer in question, moving on was.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Child of God


It was a weekly thing.  My mom said it would give me some responsibilities and work ethic for when I got older.  I was thinking it would give me a couple dollars in my pocket for when I go to the store to buy goodies.  I started out looking forward to Wednesdays.  My mom would go to her women’s meeting and I would go into the office and help clean and tidy it up.  I would wipe down shelves and the desk and sweep and mop the floor.  By the time I was done, you would smell the sweet hint of lavender and pine.  Considering how much I hated cleaning at home, I thought I did an excellent job.  When he saw my work, he would tell my mom, “Sista Smith, your daughter is a hard worker.  Thank you for allowing her to do the Lord’s work and help me out every week.“

He would tell me that I was one of God’s angels sent down from heaven, and I felt important.  He said that God had these angels in heaven but he had a few that he would send down to earth to do special jobs.  My helping to clean his office in the church every week was what God wanted me to do.  He asked me if I wanted to do more to please God and be on his good side.  I was thinking sure, because I could always use more dollars to buy my favorite sweets and who wouldn’t want to be on God’s good side? 

Normally he wouldn’t be in his office while I was cleaning but, about a month after I had been working for Pastor, he decided to stick around one Wednesday.  He sat behind his desk watching me climb the stepladder to wipe down the shelves.  It was kinda creepy.  I felt like I was being watched by one of those cat clocks with the eyes and tail that wag back and forth, watching every move I made in the room.  When it came time to clean his desk, I thought he would get up and move but he didn’t.  Well, he did for a second when he went to close and lock the door.  Then he walked back over and sat behind his desk. 
Pastor said “Nikki, I told you that God has special jobs for his angels on earth.  If you do what God asks of you, you will have a seat right next to him when you get to heaven.”  I was worried because I couldn’t think of what else he could possibly want me to clean in the office.  I was praying it wouldn’t be the windows because I hate doing those.
 
While trying to clean the desk off and organize his papers, I felt his hands on my waist.  He grabbed me and picked me up to sit on his lap.  He said, “You want to do God’s work don’t you?  You want a seat in heaven?”  I told him yes.  I knew I had done some bad things before and I didn’t want them to keep me out of heaven.  Like the time I kicked the ball and it hit Emelia Johnson in the face so hard her glasses broke.  I had even taken a pack of my brother’s Now N Laters, and hid them so he would never find them.  Then when I thought he forgot about them I mixed them in with my goodies so he would think they were mine.  He didn’t need more cavities anyway. 

Pastor said, “Good!”  He said, “I will show you how you can please me and God all at the same time.  And what I show you has to stay between us because God doesn’t like people telling everyone about the special jobs he has them doing.” I asked if I could tell my mom or my brother since they were family but he said no.  He said if I did, God would be very upset and he might do something to hurt one of the people I love.  I was 8 years old when I learned how to please Pastor and God using my hands.  He zipped down his pants and took my hand and placed it inside.  At first he moved my hand back and forth because I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do.  I wasn’t sure what was happening because he said I was pleasing him but he made these weird noises like I was doing something wrong.  After a few weeks, he didn’t have to hold my hand anymore.  I figured out everything I needed to do.  I was 10 years old when I learned to please pastor and God using my mouth.  By the time I was 12 I learned how to please him lying on my back.  I never told anyone anything because Pastor said I was doing what God wanted me to do.  I didn’t want him to hurt my family.  And like my mom said, it would give me some responsibility and work ethic for when I got older.