Hell, again and again

We don’t want prostituted to your dope dealers, or the nice doctor in the pretty white house down the street where babies and other kids our age scream all day and we hear them all night and it ain’t cause they had to get a shot or something, or to the preacher in the church with the really big cross on the wall behind the pulpit where he keeps his Bible and glass of vodka who teaches all about how God is love and we gotta forgive mean people or we’ll go to hell with them because God won’t love us no more or let us into heaven even tho God loves children and baby animals best of all.

We don’t know a whole lot about love probably never will but if this is it we don’t want any more of it anyhow cause

love hurts too bad so who cares anymore what God thinks.

He ain’t listening anyhow no way

but maybe this time at least God will hear us and get them all dead!! Really, really, maggot crawling dead!! This time maybe at least He will . .  .

Maybe. Kids pray lots, you know that? ‘Specially us kinda kids. We do….

Praying for help . . .

Or maybe Mighty Mouse will come out of the TV and get them dead. Or maybe Santa will come early this year and takes us away and make us a present to new family. The Easter bunny didn’t last year but he didn’t get to come to our house cause we didn’t have no money and we were bad anyhow and we got beat cause the neighbor said to stop pounding on us and gave us some candy and colored eggs and stuff so mommy and daddy got mad so the Easter bunny didn’t take us away in a basket like baby Moses to a new family where they had ham and stuff on the table instead of mac and cheese with roaches. But he did our baby sister cause that’s how she got throwed in the trash with all her dirty clothes and bottles and stuff: in a wicker laundry basket nobody paid no mind to. Just old trash anyhow.

She shoulda just shut up that damn screaming when Mom’s new boyfriend did that nasty stuff to her in front of the computer with the camera on. Mom don’t care. She helped sometimes. We got beat and told we better not say nuthin’ even if asked by dumb cops. We better lie and tell ’em it didn’t happen.

We asked Santa to come get us. We asked him in our heads — in our heads anyhow we did. Lots of times. Not just before Christmas. But we’re always bad. We don’t hardly ever get no Christmas. Least not one like other kids get where there’s a real tree with lights and decorations that shine in the night and people laughing and lots of presents and stuff and socks on the fireplace we ain’t got filled with candy and games and McDonald’s Big Mac gift cards and new toothbrushes and other junk. We could hang the socks on our bed or the wall through.

It don’t matter now no how.

There ain’t really no Santa Claus

we’re still here and they’re still breathing and my baby sister is still dead and so is my dog like the dogs and gerbils of those two dead little girls in Florida ‘cause their mom was on dope, too, and having a bad day so she stabbed them all to death. Know who Garth Brooks is? He had a friend there who heard the trial and he got sick. We get dead sometimes when we get sick and puke.

‘Cause we’re bad all the time.

Maybe.

He might.

Some cops are good cops. Right?

Saw that on TV one night when I got beat again for getting up to go to the bathroom so I wouldn’t get beat for wetting the bed again so I don’t go to sleep until my eyes won’t stay open no more. Sometimes it don’t matter cause I can’t open my eyes anyhow cause they’re all swelled shut and black

Or maybe we’ll just get dead

butchered on the kitchen table like Erika Green in Missouri

and stuffed into black garbage bags and tossed into the dumpster before Tuesday trash day like we keep getting told is gonna happen if we don’t straighten up and act right and get some smarts and stop being disrespectful and smart-mouth and stealing all the time

Or like on the news the other night when they arrested somebody like mom and this new dumb creep living here for killing their little kid and chopping her up and going on vacation and driving down the road throwing her arms and legs and other stuff and then her head out the dumb car window because she was bad and cried because they wouldn’t stop pounding on her. Her momma’s boyfriend didn’t like her anyway and they had all this dope and stuff like Mom does. They do it all the time.

Even showed me how!

Or the other people like the ones down the street last year that cut their kid’s head off then threw her body somewhere else and then the police found that and then it took them a long time to find her head and lots longer to even know her name all because her mom’s new dumb boyfriend didn’t like her anymore.

continue

All Comments from The Heart Are Welcome

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s