warmth

Dark voices plague my head.

No they don’t tell me to do dangerous things.

Rather, they make me go crazy.

Not wild, but mad. Upset.

This reminds me of a darker period in my life.

I thought the devil was inside of me.

Controlling my life.

I was a devoted Catholic.

Loved God.

But I also made love to him.

I jerked off with the same hand

I took the eucharist.

I once wrote a poem about it, and presented in my Chicano Literaure class.

I thought I would be stoned. But I wasn’t.

They loved it.

Why I asked myself – would they love the idea of me making love to God?

The darkness never left, rather I hid it.

I’ve always been a very angry child.

I don’t know why or where it comes from. Perhaps the bullying in elementary school and middle school.

In high school. I always worried. I had meltdowns. Broke down. She held me tight. I felt comfortable.

Warmth. I miss it. I miss it.