The Coldest Summer

"His touches felt foreign,

yet his lips slithered my spine.

My mind would go blank,

yet my heart would scream for more lies.

My soul starved,

yet my hormones were at bay.

Every night I lay empty,

yet I was filled with ambition.

His touches felt of lies,

yet I welcomed them.

My spine tangled within his lips,

yet my mind refused to break free.

My soul craved more,

yet it was just as cold.

Every night I lay empty, praying for defeat,

yet I still welcome his lies,

In the coldest of summer."

My words felt foreign to me, even with the stylish pen in my hand, I felt lost, as if there was something I was missing. I trace the lines on the paper with my pinky finger and close my eyes. I could feel the cool breeze that invited you to a cool summer's day, the sun hugged my eyes more than the rest of my body, and the pine trees seemed a bit greener. I take a deep breath, and in body the whole experience. "I won't be here forever Rae, if you do it right the first time, you won't have to do it again". My heart began to sink when the words echoed through my mind, the scenery changed within a second and the hint of his famous French toast filled my nostrils.

"Thanks Daddy" I could see the little me jumping up and down and then clinging to her Daddy's leg. "Whip cream, syrup annnnd peanut budder". Little me sung out. I watched with a wounded heart how promising I was, the surety that my Daddy would never leave me hung in the back of the little me mind, tears of acknowledgment slowly ran down my face and I open my eyes.

"You just didn't know how cold the world was" I said to myself, remembering him telling me as a little girl. "it'll chew you up, swallow you, and shit you out".

Another memory began to attack me, sending my mind in a whirlpool of him. I’m thirteen again, it’s Christmas Eve, -he’d just gotten off work and I wanted to sing part of my gift to him. His work clothes were dingy, and I remember how sad his eyes were before I started singing. I’d been getting in a lot of trouble, that was the main reason why I wasn’t getting much that Christmas. He’d sat on the edge of the bed, we’d decided to visit my aunt for Christmas that year, after glancing at his eyes when he looked me dead in mine, I began to sing. I had been nervous up and till ‘that very moment, I had felt like he needed to hear it more than I needed to sing it.

“You tucked me in, turned out the light

Kept me safe and sound at night

Little girls depend on things like that

Brushed my teeth and combed my hair

Had to drive me everywhere

You were always there when I looked back

You had to do it all alone

Make a liven', make a home

Must have been as hard as it could be

And when I couldn't sleep at night

Scared things wouldn't turn out right

You would hold my hand and sing to me”

Those words never left me even after he did. They stuck with me, and I held on to them tight, grateful that he heard them from me before it was too late.

I wiped the tears from my face, managing to pull myself back to reality. The sheet of paper with my words wrapped around every line and corner, stared back at me. Will I finally submit? I asked myself; I'd been writing since I was fifteen but never had the courage to press submit... never felt like I was good enough to get published. "The next typer perry in the making" I hear his voice in my heart but always dismissed the idea. Truth was that I was afraid, afraid to live the dream that he was supposed to be here for, afraid of the unknown possibilities, afraid to finally press submit.

Cheated was how I really felt. Cheated out of a full life with him, cheated out of being given away down the aisle by his dominance, cheated out of seeing him grow old, cheated out of him seeing his grandchildren, infinitely cheated.

“...I won’t be here forever”. He’d began to preach long ago, after demonstrating to me how he use to break dance, hitting his chest twice with his right hand and rhythmically moving to the beat of his own music with his feet. “...and I need my little girl to listen to me because time ain’t on nobody side”. I didn’t listen to him; I was sixteen and didn’t care to hear about losing my father. In my world, there was no such thing, I felt there was no reason to think about life without him or even moments. Every little girl needs her Daddy. I took mine for granted and till ‘this day it haunts me.

Sweet Warm Days, evenings and fall nights, infinite possibilities. The light always come to the dark, secrets are meant to be kept, but for how long? and the person you trust the most, should you? is it real? we grow up believing what we are told, taught, built into us, but does that make it right? we are afraid of the unknown. This was my unknown, but that didn’t mean the fear was okay. We yearn for love, but don’t truly possess the meaning of it... we accept the love we think we deserve. I accepted a monster and had the audacity to believe I was a victim. What started with Love ended with explosion. What was mistaken for love... well, that’s where it gets complicated.

I tune back into the sheet of paper and knew immediately what I needed to do, without hesitation, without a second thought, I pressed submit.