[Cherie had left Texas to pursue a life of creativity but they were back home to visit, only to hear some foul things people had said about them]
I heard you told everyone you were gonna come right down to where I was stayin’ and wring me up to send me back to Texas. I should send you back to church to learn some manners. Or maybe you should worry about who you’re becomin’ and not about where I’m bein’ taken. Don’t think I forgot about that day at your daddy’s funeral when you grabbed my arm fulla tattoos. You grabbed me so hard, to prove a point. You’re a misfit of a person you know that? All the things you think I am, all the things you fear about me bein’, you are them yerself. I have every right to do as I see fit for my life. How dare you think you have a say in that. When you told everyone I left because I don’t like my family. Fulfillin’ your own prophecy. Would you like people who say cuttin’, nasty things about you when you’re not around? Would you like people who up and criticize your every move, people who physically express their disgust of ya, when you’re around em? No you wouldn’t because that ain’t no family. Ain’t no family here.
You’re so fucked in the head you don’t know which way is right. Don’t claim to be a child of God and act this way. Don’t claim he is why you are bein’ this way. Don’t you use him as your shield, cause it’s fuckin’ pathetic. You don’t know the first thing about religion and what it stands for. Acceptance and tolerance, ain’t those the pinnacles of your faith? Then why am I acceptin’ you by includin’ you in my life, why am I toleratin’ you? And you call me the devil. If I’m the devil for doin’ what makes me happiest then so fuckin’ be it. I will be Satan himself I will rally others so we can all do our happiest biddings together. You know what I think? What been instilled in you is the kinda horseshit that beckons the young to the edges of cliffs. When they’re about to jump they think of people like you. The kind of PEOPLE who parade the good Lord around like he’s some kinda fuckin’ ill thing when it’s you who is the ill thing. The Lord loves me and he took me far away from here so I could have a better life. Don’t you fuckin’ turn that around into some ill will.
Goodbye Nana.
Don’t ever expect to hear from me again.
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Thank you for reading. There is an option below to support my writing if you feel so inclined. Here’s an update on what I’ve been doing elsewhere:
My first zine, Devil’s Manifesto, just came out.
You can also preorder my two poetry books, Folk Horror and Rural Horror, this October.