TRIGGER WARNING: The following poem contains graphic words and content related to sexual abuse of a little child in a religious setting.
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Back and forth. Up and down. Little fingers tracing the grooves between the block. Feeling the smooth and rough parts.
Blocks. Concrete blocks.Painted blocks. They made up the big building called the church.
“House of God” they called it.
“Sacred” they told me.
To the child, it was a house of horrors. More like hell.
Crouched beside the wall, running fingers along the blocks.
Unconsciously trying to feel some normalcy and safety.
Up and down. Back and forth.
Sometimes the bushes beside the block walls offered a little protection. I knew which ones offered the best cover.
Slipping between the wall and the blocks or inside the bush itself, I could listen and watch the shoes of members walking by.
Waiting till it was safe to retreat.
Plucking and pinching the red berries while I waited.
Eventually the bushes were taken away.
Exposed.
No place to hide anymore.
The building with block walls was where went to to hear about “god.”
Many songs sung about God’s love.
Lots of words concerning Heaven.
Being taught we were the only way to Jesus.
Up and down, back and forth.
Little fingers on those block walls.
Feel the bumps on the block.
Don’t feel the pain.
Inside those walls, good sounding words were spoken.
Inside those walls, hell broke open.
Jesus loves me upstairs.
The devil killing a child’s soul below.
Jesus loves me.
Grown men closing in. Trapped.
Tight grasp. Fierce struggle.
For one so small, I put up a good fight,
Finally breaking loose.
Force flung her against those blocks walls.
Cold, painted, concrete block walls with the tracing lines.
Ugly, painted walls.
Jeering and laughter.
She’s feisty. Too feisty.
Adult men closing in again.
Tight, painful grip.
A handkerchief to the nose and face.
That’ll teach you! Calm you down.
The block walls with tracing lines start spinning.
Blackness.
And pain.
Shuffling noises.
Presence behind me.
Restriction.
When will I ever be free?
Crossed legged on the floor in so much pain.
Ears ringing.
An adult male body blocks the doorway in a big X shape, making sure
We aren’t detected by the wrong person.
Behind him are seen- those block walls.
Dizzy, confused, in so much pain.
Being forced to walk back upstairs alone.
Jesus…loves me?
If no one protects me, there’s only me to do do.
“You’re to strong willed.”
“You’re rebellious.”
“You hate men.”
“You’re a feminist.”
“You’re bitter.”
“You need to forgive or you’ll go to hell.”
“You need to submit.”
“Your will needs broken.”
It all came from behind those “sacred block walls.”
They taught a child less than a whole handful of years old that
An adult male ultimately loved a child through sexual encounters.
Oral sexual encounters.
Any sexual encounters.
Rape.
Up and down. Back and forth. Trying to make sense of it all.
There was no good sense to be made. None.
There was no “God” in all that happened there either. None.
She turned and walked away from hell.
Screaming,begging if there was
A true God, could she please experience Him?
Words from inside those block walls:
No. You’re walking away from truth. You’re headed for hell fire.
No matter what happened to you, God’s will is for you to accept
It and forgive. You’re bitter. You’ve turned on God.
You’re deceived.
Have you forgiven yet?
How do you even give God another chance?
How have you not given Up on it all?
I did. I gave up on their “god.”
That god is a lie.
That god is not real.
That god is the devil himself.
I gave up on the god thrown at me behind those block
Walls. He wasn’t there in “that” at all.
She knows now that Jesus does not abuse.
Neither does He endorse abuse.
The real Jesus doesn’t force her to be mistreated.
I haven’t given up on God.
No.
I’m finally learning Who He really is.
Do they say I’m lost?
Yes.
Do I care? No.
The God I know now set me free from the
Imprisonments of those hellish block walls.
No justice on earth could ever repay what happened inside those block walls.
Some day all will be made known.
Justice is in the hands of the court of higher powers.
I walk free.
Free to find truth.
Free to pursue healing.
No more block walls.
Only freedom. And healing
~ Little Girl ~
No child should ever, ever have to experience this hell in the name of any god. And the True God will never bless the house that overlooks, enables, or protects the perpetrators. Justice is coming, via the One True Advocate.
Little Girl, you are worth so much more. You are cherished. You are precious. Your courage is the hope that every other little girl needs.
Little Girl, you are loved.
As always…
Love,
~ T~
© Trudy Metzger 2024
A Splash of Love.... 