Sunday School

Sunday School

No one cares about these boring stories
Not even the teacher with her droning voice
Who doesn't see that kid picking his nose
Or hear those two girls whispering
With their eyes dead set on me

I'll give those snotty little girls a show to talk about

Checking for clearance, I glance toward the teacher
Then lift my dress up to my slender waist
All eyes are wildly intent upon me now
While I slowly open my legs

A mischievous grin graces my lips
As my hand reaches down between my thighs
Amusingly, some look on in horror
But the others... Well, they want more

So I pull aside my ruffled undies
And show them what is missing
My sneer, no longer a tease
Dares them to remove their eyes from me

For I despise their polished smiles
Their perfect families
And adoring fathers
Now I lead this sick charade
This broken dance
Leaving nothing behind of innocence

A startling shrill cracks the air
Finally drawing the teacher's attention
Away from that book
Who follows the accusing finger pointing at me

Defiantly I meet that mask of revulsion
And feel my arms nearly ripped from their sockets
Erupting laughter fills my reddening ears
As I am drug out kicking and screaming

It's into the Bishop's lair for me
Where a barbed crown is shoved firmly
Around my unworthy, tainted head
And his inquiring gaze leaves track marks
Upon my used and dirty flesh

His knowing silence mocks my pain and so I sing to him

"I am a child of god
and He has sentenced me
to a life of wasted misery
with parents cruel and fierce

Beat me, rape me
Tower above me
Put me in my place
Teach me all that I must do
to live in fear and rage"

Sent from my iPad

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

OH MY....The subject matter is brutal, but you approach it in a very different way. I could picture the scene and feel the emotions. Intense and powerful. Well written. Lydi**

[Michelle Coleman]

Thank you so much Lydia. Something had moved me to write from the perspective of my younger self. It is the only time I have done that so far.

[Einstein Noodle]

wow! i am honestly stunned into silence .. very fine writing says i! .. all the innocence, brutality, insensitivity, judgement and lack of comprehension as well as honest insight into those "forbidden" places .. really nitty gritty and mean street poetry .. saving it for sure .. and so nice to meet you
E.

[Michelle Coleman]

Einstein noodle, thank you so much for the awesome review! 😊 when I read this poem out loud to my creative writer's group, they had been stunned into silence also. It was actually very difficult to recite.

I am just as pleased to meet you.

[dan]

Michelle, This is really great. At first it seems as if your getting involved in a potentially pedophiliac sexual relationship, then it kind of sounds like a f**k you to everything and everybody. I love the line, "Now I lead this sick charade This broken dance..." I like dark poetry and have written some, and this one looks pretty grim for awhile, and I mean that in a good way. You've got an interesting writing style, and I mean THAT in a good way too. take care...dan

[Michelle Coleman]

Thank you Dan. ☺️ I have often been drawn to the dark side of writing whether by own attempts or someone else's work. It has taken some time to find my own voice in writing. I love that you appreciate my style.

[Gerry Legister]

Train up a child in the way that they should go, later they wont easily fort those valuable lessons, love work here

[Michelle Coleman]

I am not sure what you meant by your statement. Can you elaborate? I am glad you enjoyed this piece. I know it can be rough to read for a lot of people.

[Nadia Gerassimenko]

I admire and thank your honesty, irony, rawness, and bravery. This was very rebellious and sardonic and novel. I wish for us all to be this brave and honest.

[Michelle Coleman]

Thank you, Nadia. I hope to encourage others to be as brave and honest. And I love the words you chosen to describe this piece. I am not often around a lot of writers and it feels good to receive this kind of encouragement.

[Frank]

As I am drug out [dug out?]

I am a child of god [or God?]

It's a bitter piece of work, if that is what you intended it works.

It is pregnant with contradiction, no moral code, it is wickedness, pain and rebellion and yet it does reflect the world and so is a valid statement no matter how sad and futile.

[Michelle Coleman]

Drug I out is what i meant because that is what actually happened. Though I did mean to write God, rather than god. That could have been a remnant of my earlier hatred of the god I was raised with.

The bitterness was definitely intentional.

Thank you for your review. It reads like one you find on a back of a book and that warms my heart. 😊

[ANTO]

Stick a mature banner on this Michelle -
but after that can I say this is so rebellious and fun. It reminded me of the movie 'Wish you were here' from the 80's about the young girl who was a Hellraiser in a seaside town. The song/prayer is a commentary on the church's role in keeping the people 'in their place', I felt.
It raised me from my tristesse - thanks for that.
Thanks for the friend request :))

[Michelle Coleman]

The reason I did not put a mature banner on this piece is because sexual assault veins in childhood. Many of us growing up did not have a healthy outlet or a support. I want to encourage, through my writing, the end of silence.

We will never heal as a society as long as these issues and consequences are kept hidden. We are not protecting the youth by covering their eyes. We need to know the symptoms of those suffering and reach out.

I am actually unfamiliar with Widh You Were Here. I was a teenager in the 80's and thought I had watched all the ones worth seeing. 😜

The song at the end is from a children's song I learned in church. Their lyrics did not reflect my experience.

And you're welcome. 😄

[Michelle Coleman]

I meant to say that childhood sexual assault begins in childhood. Not veins. Don't know where that came from. 😜

[....................]

Your descriptions are so vivid that I was drawn immediately into this piece. Your lines are filled with anger, bitterness, defiance and bluntness that bring the story to life.

Where a barbed crown is shoved firmly
Around my unworthy, tainted head
And his inquiring gaze leaves track marks
Upon my used and dirty flesh

Such a powerful image.

Great write!

[Michelle Coleman]

Thank you so much FT Ledrew. 😊

[....................]

You are welcome Michelle.