I am 9 years old with long curly brown hair.
I am three foot tall, weighing next to nothing
With giant burnt brown eyes.
I’m on the playground sitting on the cross
Of the ship made of giant Lincoln logs
With a tearstained red blotchy face
And rosy nose snotty and swollen.
Take me home.
I am dull and unable to read or write,
But good at math though slow.
I was once happy friends with everyone,
Considered a positive “happy” girl,
Despite being stupid.
I am persecuted by adults and later children
Who were once my best friends.
I am an outcast among my peers, family;
Even those who should protect me, take turns stabbing with spears.
I smile in church,
Singing “I am a flower quickly fading, Here today and gone tomorrow.”
If only… Take me home.
On the cross, I sit alone again
And all I have is you, God.
Please take me home.
I am a failure in all but you.
I believe, and I am faithful.
Still I pray then I jump—
Others break their arms and do it by accident,
But I am fearless as I do it on purpose—
A feeble attempt the best I can do.
God, take me home.
“Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see? Or does anybody even know She’s going down today?”
I am still here.
Why won’t you let me go home?
I never fear death, I only pray for it.
All things come in your time not mine,
Yet still I believe in you.
I am 14 years old with short pixie cut hair.
I am overweight, four foot eleven,
Wearing makeup, heels,
A blazer, and a short skirt.
I am the smartest in my grade
And I am a talented musician
Singing at the national level.
I run from boys that try to touch me.
They try to take away my books
And knock me down.
The teachers say they have a crush on me,
But I know the truth.
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing.”
Hypocrisy is sickening.
No more church and no worship.
Only my bible in my hand
As I threaten others
In hopes of protecting myself.
I am hated, feared, bullied, and alone.
Take me home.
She tells me, “Killing yourself is a sin.”
My scars unseen from blades unknown
As I wait and pray God, take me home.
I have strayed from God,
A child in the jungle playing with cobras.
I got bit and Satan’s venom made me delirious
As I lost myself and abandoned my values.
I disgust myself.
I am covered in the black grime of sin.
I can’t take the guilt—the piano on my chest
And I have been hurt and violated,
The snakes having entered my body
Like parasitic maggots eating my soul.
I need my savior.
“So pull me up from down below
‘Cause I’m underneath the undertow
Come dry me off and hold me close
I need you now, I need you most.”
Clean me please
As I shed the snakeskin of sin
And cut away the dead branches of my weed infested roses,
Leaving only my roots so that they may grow anew.
I am reborn without the weeds that are choking me
Like a boa constrictor wrapped around my neck.
Forgive me, God, for I am the queen of sinners.
I am still here regaining my values
Like finding that secret spot
That I once loved and forgotten.
Still I believe,
Though my faith is weaker
Just a sapling that was once a tree,
But sprouting more each day,
Producing beautiful bright green buds—
My secret garden brought back to life.
I still feel regret for straying so far.
I try to remember:
“You are more than your past mistakes.”
Still I struggle to give my burdens to you.
I am glad you haven’t taken me home yet,
But somedays I still pray, God, take me home,
But I’m not sure if I belong there yet.
So, I wait and sing,
“Sometimes I gotta stop
Remember that you’re
God and I am not
So thy will be done.”