Damnation | Kimberley Gomillion

Damnation

Kimberely Gomillion

Enough of the fluffed pink dresses, The unbearable kitten heels that made

Myself stand an inch taller than my true height, Most Sundays now do not mimic the ones of a younger me.

We all stand when told, bowing our dreadful heads, Eyes sealed shut as a man spoke empty words to an audience Of people who believed the prayer. People are ugly.

Deliver me from evil, I can see it in humans.

Smell it on my father’s breath On that very Sunday, but if I could be blind And senseless, into the state of just getting a little older.

When the singing stops, and the people leave, One by one they say: Let your kingdom come, Let your will take place, on Earth as it is in Heaven.

They fail to tell some that growing up means growing Out of a false hope of miracles and dreams of sun beams. No one can save the people who may not believe in What you believe. Once you laid with evil and lived through death, It gets hard to surrender yourself to hell or see a light to heaven again.