Image for post
Image for post
Art by Horace Pippin, Sunday Morning Breakfast, 1943, Saint Louis Art Museum

Musical Selection: Beyonce’|Black Parade

What of little girls who have no heart and no shine?

Readers: This work of fiction has explicit details about pedophilia/familial child rape, abuse, poverty, and neglect. If this is something you think you shouldn’t read, please do not continue.

What of little girls who have no heart and no shine? Who carries the pain for them when breathing isn’t easy? Where are their Gods? Where are you, God? Nowhere to be found.

Phara was ten when her daddy laid up with her for what seemed like the thousandth time. He shuffled in one night, late from work, with Seagram’s Gin fresh on his breath as he panted his way down the hall. He never knocked. He always entered without permission. This was true for her door as well as the space between her girl-child legs. The night she knew he had done something worse than the times before, she bled. She bled for two hours before getting up out of the bed, removing her T-Shirt, and crawling the frailness of her body to the bathroom. …

On: moving through these two emotions as best as I can.

Image for post
Image for post
Photo by DEVN via Unsplash

I am seated at my kitchen table in my breakfast nook — laptop propped up, my therapist’s voice in the background . . . We are meeting, but virtually. …

Image for post
Image for post
Image by McKinsey via rawpixel

An Experiment

I tell her, "You would've had
beautiful children had you
decided to go that route."
She smiles. She's delighted.
She responds, "I would rather
clone you, instead."
Instantly, I think . . .

How odd —
I wouldn't want to be anyone
else's child.

But to be cloned? To be
more than one? What would
that feel like? Would it
host my pain? Would it shed
my tears? Surely, it'd wish
to be free of the constant
bashing at the crooked mouths
and salty throats of
the disruptive majority.

I think it would be stronger
than me, perhaps wiser too
or would all that I am only
transfer to it with no real
These are the thoughts I think
as I screen my white counterparts
who greet me with subtle racism
and microaggressions. …


Tre L. Loadholt

I’m more than breath & bones, I’m nectar in waiting — Owner ACG •Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •https://acorneredgurl.com

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store