Devotion

I would like to welcome the newest member of our writing team, Reba Overkill. In its first post with us, it speaks through poetry to recall its struggle with being heard by the people who matter. Thanks for sharing with us, Reba!

TW: allusions to sexual abuse, self-injury & suicide attempts.

it all came together a few nights ago, weak and bent
in your lap, feeling lost, feeling like it was years ago when
i was never anything like the me that you know. i was
someone who was trying to speak, nobody listened and i didn’t
understand because i can hear so fucking well, i listened and
i heard sirens, and songs that i would sing with people who i did
not end up loving very kindly. i heard calm assertions by
people in authority that left cracks in parts of me. i heard
the breath i took in when i woke up and was not dead, even
for all my trying. i heard people leaving hints for their departure,
inclining heads towards one-way tickets to not existing.
i heard all of this and all of me that is saying that it is my fault,
that i deserve it, that i will not be cared for and every little
thing that has ever happened to me and every big one has
been the result of my own downfallen decisions. and then you,
the goddess, the mother, covered my ear with your mouth
and it was like the rituals were fulfilled, the thing that i was
reaching out for, praying to, it was you all along. you were
the deity i was stealing books from bookstores for, writing
runes and dripping blood on flower petals and tying cords to
throw into running water, all the roads i’ve sprawled on, little
witchy kid, barefoot and bleeding, begging candlewax to
bring forth something, anything, our father who art in heaven,
hallowed be his name. his name is hollow. his scripture
rings false and i searched and i looked for you down every
brambled deerpath, every breath held for too long under a lake
full of teeth with fish. every scar i put on myself to remember
something i had done wrong by the man’s word, word of god given
through man’s lips and things pressed against mine that i would
have screamed against if i had any voice left. all of this, beloved,
so many years and it brought me to you, hand cool on my fever,
and you said, it’s okay, i can take care of you now.