these cold white floors
are never enough
to mirror the purity of your heart
or to capture your hands' warmth

the intricacy weaved on your clothes
and patterns drawn by your feet
can never compare to
the dancing heart you wear on your sleeve

so don't look down
every time you fall
but hold on to their arms
and firm words and calls

to yourself, you're imperfect
to me, you're emboldened:
you don't need to win gold
when you're already golden

Shadowed Figure…by Jessie 7/06

Shadowed figure in my thoughts
Shadowed figure in my dreams
Shadowed figure taunting me
I wake from my own screams
I never see the shadows face
Although I see his blade
Taking violent swings at me
My life begins to fade
Drowning in the shadows pull
No escape perceived
Reminded by the way I lived
And all my ***** deeds
Shadowed figure won’t retreat
Shadowed figure fierce
Shadowed figure on to me
Silent screams that pierce  
Shadowed figure calling me
Stand and ******* blade
Shadowed figure comes for me
The shadow I had made

shade shadows
of dark skin
head neck
chest hips

darken rolls
of stomach flesh
blow away
charcoal dust

curve calf
over seat
blend fold
of white sheets

steady hands
sketch toes
crescent nails
foreshorten soles

erase

Growing up, I was taught the story of two men
One built his house upon the rocks and one upon the sand
And I learned the difference between humility and pride
I was taught to differentiate the foolish from the wise
Because when God sent the rainfall and the waters began to rise,
The house on sand crumbled right in front of thoughtless eyes
And my father would tell me, "Darling, don't build your foundation in the weak, in something that might die"
But I've been constructing my home on gravel my entire life

If there is a God
Why did he let me build my house upon the sand?
Why did he lay down every brick and let the nails tear through my hands?
I am an urchin in the dirt leaving claw marks in the earth
And my cries fall from my mouth and cling to my tattered shirt
If there is a God
Then why would he call himself a Father to me?
Why would he want to break my heart and crush my dignity?
He prides himself on the ringing in my ears
and his mason jars of tears
Instead of being my faith, why would God want to be my greatest fear?
If heaven is where he is,
then hell is anywhere but here

If there is a God
And he's my Father
And he is so divine
Then why did I grow up so sick and sad and tired all the time?
Why would he instill doubts from Satan himself for everyone to see;
"You're inadequate
Inadequate
That's all you'll ever be"
My mistakes render me useless,
At least, that's what Father says of me

And if there is a God,
And he's my father
How could he walk away as if nothing ever happened, although I have seen it all before
Because what happens in this House of Heaven stays behind closed doors
He would enter his bedroom, and leave the door open just a crack
So when he would read his Bible and show us how a true Christian should act
I'd turn to my little brother and say "I wish one day we'd be holy like that".

The mortar in my walls are breaking and the water is rushing in
I wish so badly to repair it, but I've always been like this
The dirt I fell in twenty years ago is matted to my skin
The cuts on my soul since childhood are all I've ever been
I'm sorry Father, for I have sinned
And I have nothing good to show
And I don't mean to point the blame, Father, but sin is all I've ever known

If there is a God, would he let me stand before his throne?
Would he take me into his arms and treat me as his own?
Would he wash my ***** shirt and let me stand where the saints have stood?
Would he help me build a house upon the rocks
Like a father should?

I wonder if I can build it well enough to reach him
Because my current house can't as long as its this way
If there is a God
I wonder what he'd say
about me

I am the prodigal daughter you never learned about in stories

Heavy chest. Chained limbs.
Vivid senses, but a blurred vision.
Awake, but hope dims
As the bed becomes a grim prison.
It's from these deceiving dreams, I believe,
And the tempting embrace of slumber
Into which woes I'd sought to relieve.

Alas, here I lay.
Frozen senses, but some - sound, sight, touch -
Remain to parlay
Those who love the shadows o so much.
Is that my mother? No, it can't be.
But who stands there, watching at my side?
Could it be my sister to wake me?

The same vague figure
Always at the ready to deceive
And eager to lure
Me, tried and worn, from the bed to leave.
Possessing my mother's sweet, soft voice,
Imitating my father's presence,
Holding me down, leaving me no choice.

Tied at all my limbs,
At the chest too; there is no escape.
I hear the grim hymns
Of that shadowy figure, whose shape
Embraces my body - I can't breathe!
More than my mind, at times, it will ****.
All I can do is hope to be free.

It all feels so real.
To the bed I'm pinned as these horrors
Make way with such zeal.
I can't even scream, despite the tortures.
Breathing heavily, I try to move,
Watching what else the figure conjures.
It's for these nightmares, to sleep, I rue.