The things that haunt me:

1. For one year now I've been conflicted with whether now is the time to announce I have a disease or if I should keep up this act that I've got it all together. Seems to get me by. It seems to make others believe that I'm never in need of being checked up on. A couple months back I diagnosed myself as empty. I have a kind of sadness that cannot be named or explained to the happy folk. I have the kind of bruise that never lightens and consecutive bad days that only heighten. Every day I'm in need of something stronger. Something stronger than weed, someone stronger than me. Something or someone godly enough to save me.

2. For two years I've been conflicted with whether my mother finally had enough or if she simply gave up. Maybe she was tired of holding onto the lies my father fed her and decided she wanted a better meal. Maybe she was too weak to carry the weight he placed on her back when he repeatedly said, "I don't love you enough to change". I can still hear her preach about when love is real you gather your bones and make supper anyway. You neglect the aches and keep on day after day after day. You place a lock on every closet so skeletons won't find a way to reveal themselves when things seem to be going okay. Every now and again and can see her and my father laughing on our living room sofa. Every now and again I can see her by her lonesome crying on our front porch. Every now and again I wonder if I was the result of a holy woman praying for a man to change. Every now and again I wish I were reason enough for my father's change.

3. For three years I've been conflicted with whether there is any truth in the words my ex spoke about me practically being a waste of an investment. Or if he was part of the majority who could see my magic and inevitably tried to steal my power away. I wouldn't be surprised if he became afraid of the love I gave. He might've been afraid to see me in my final form. I might have mistaken him to be the honest kind of people or I might just really not be magic at all. I might just really not be the kind of person you want to love. I wouldn't doubt myself to be an illusion. Truthfully, I doubt I'm the kind of person you don't fully see. Truthfully, he might've mistaken me to be worthy before even truly knowing me. Truthfully, I'm still trying to deem my own self worthy.

4. For four years I've been conflicted with the idea that some day soon I'll have a baby. I'll give birth to a half full moon because deficiencies run in my DNA. Every single day I wonder if today is the day God promised me. The one where I was reassured that someday I won't have to worry. Everyday I wonder if God was lying to me the same way the men promise to stay while they lie right beside me. I'm still praying that one day I'll at least be left half full and not left half ruined. The women in my family might agree that somewhere along the line we were cursed. I wish I were proof enough to disagree with that. I've been conflicted because some days I decide I shouldn't. I decide that maybe it's best that I save the world by being the last of a dying breed. And showing the world that miracles are real because my mother birthing me made her lucky. Every day she still thanks me.

5. For five years I've been trying to figure out the definition of my dreams and why they always seem to come to fruition. At 17 I began dreaming that I wouldn't live past 24; however, I'm conflicted because at 22 I don't feel very alive anymore. In fact, I don't feel anything at all anymore. I'm just allowing life to come and pass as I wait for two years. I'm just allowing love to come and pass as I wait for my dreams to come to fruition.

6. For six years now I've been wondering. I've been thinking about that night on Christmas Eve, the time I met all 5 of my brothers and sisters. The moment my younger sister shouted Daddy to a man so familiar I thought I knew,8 to the same man I call daddy too. To a being who was once my superhero wasn't sure if I was tripping or if the lady holding her hand was her mother or if the lady holding her hand was once my baby sitter. Wasn't sure if it was all real. Some things you forget, this I couldn't. I mean, you took me to see the Lion King. I wasn't aware then that my father was the lyin' king. I was told there were only two. I was told of Ariana and Juju. But for real though, for 6 years I've been keeping this a secret, conflicted with whether or not I should tell my mother. I know for sure she was never warned about Jeffery, Jacob, Mia too I just know how fragile she can be. I know every time she hears anything ugly about a man she can only ever find beauty in her heart shatters by the dozens. I know I've prayed to clear my conscience. I know I've asked God to fill the spaces where truth doesn't or where comfort hasn't. I know she's going to see them one day. I know I could probably prepare her. I know I'm probably no better than my father. I just don't know right from wrong here.

7. For seven years I've been conflicted with the reality of whether it was my fault or it was my God who decided a man's touch was what was best for me. I remember being curious, but I'm not positive I was willing to see what it truly felt like. I remember feeling the tension in the room simply after I refused but I'm not positive he heard me. Although, I must have hear my daddy's voice as he touched my thighs saying, "Girl, you know better than that". And I must have hear my mama's voice as he gripped the back of my face saying, "Why must you always learn the hard way"? I'm not positive I was ready for the answer in the storm or the thunder or the quakes after each night it rained or after each night I prayed myself to sleep. I walked around for two weeks trying to replay how it went and if anyone could see the filth amongst me. I walked around for two years looking for someone who could genuinely make love to me. I walked around in hopes to find someone who could see I was more than a set of voluptuous hips and an elastic spine that would look expensive in a u-shaped position.

8. It took me eight years after I thought I knew love, to actually find love, real love, that set you free love, that healthy love, or so I think. I'm still conflicted.