Her Hidden Illness

Sitting in class with my Victoria Secret perfume of Temptation and in my new letterman jacket.

I’m on the honor roll, valen victorian of my class, and engaged, not in some ostensible straitjacket.

My hair is soft, my skin flawless, I could be the next prom queen of the twenty-teens.

But what they don’t know is that there is something wrong with my genes.

Adopted, the polluted blood in my veins has been forgotten….or never discovered.

How could I ever explain this to my lover?

Every night I hear them moan in agony.

My ignorance has antagonized.

Late at night I can’t take it anymore, I have the disease of my blood mother.

The reason they stole me away...I’m such a fool, these demons are my family...that I smother.

“Do it...stupid…” “Stop!”...”Your disgusting”...”They know everything…” They all whisper.

My door swings open, it’s only my little sister.

She’s had a nightmare and wants to crawl in my bed.

I throw my book at her and tell her it’s all in her head.

Sunday morning I pretend to be ill.

My family heads to church while I watch from the sill.

Once they’re gone I grab my father’s gun

I put it to my temple and squeeze the trigger.... We’re done.


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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