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i turned twenty-one
today
had my first sip of wine
it tasted sour
today was good until
somebody asked about
the pink and white
lines scattered across
my arms
frustrations of a past age
teenage angst at its
finest
the pink bubble burst
and the past scratched
at my mind like a rusty nail

at fifteen the words
of the bible washed
over me
i chanted hail mary over
and over again until
the words were
sour on my tongue
the rosary beads hard
clicking clicking
forever clicking
i could never say enough
prayers
never

around me the girls in my class
dressed in short skirts
in church! my mind gabbled
at me
they giggled over boys
and wrote notes in notebooks
so unused the pages crinkled
loudly when turned
my worn notebook always
followed me
i wrote down my sins in ink
never pencil
it might as well have been
in blood
every week i recited my
sins to the priest
tears were never shed
shame was a given
it had to be messy and
humiliating
or i would never be clean
never would i be pure

he told me that i must
try harder
that it was normal to feel
so lost
the clothes that covered
my body
face pale and thin
lips reciting the rosary
all normal for teenage girls
even the hatred for self
was
so long as i believed
in god
so long as i followed the
teachings

self was not important
in prayer or the
crisp taste of the
communion wafer
it never was
those girls had selves
it was evident in the
way they spoke
in the way they laughed
somehow i never had that
i was drowning in
blood and prayers
and confessions
but i loved god
that was supposed
to be better than being
a silly girl with her
crushes and her
fights with friends
lipstick and nylons
thrown in the corner

bloody crosses on paper
and a bloody communion set
is all i have left of fifteen
even the lists of sins
have been lost
lost
lost

twenty-one today
i can almost see
fifteen but it
dances its way
out of my reach
hiding behind
the sour taste
of old prayers
knees bruised
from remembered
kneeling