Our Holy Secret

"Child, it's alright. Lord works in mysterious ways,
but he will set it all right."
"But how can he , Father. Dad beat me mum again,
he threatened to kill me and he's off drinking away again."
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon,
it was just the two of us, the pastor and I.
An eternal twinkle in his eyes,
a loving smile and a kind heart,
He was like a Father I never had
He was like a friend that I always wanted
this kind old man.
none disliked the man of God,
nor did I.
And then ..

"My child, let me drive your fear away,
for you are my dearest .
Let me make you feel safe, let me make you feel special,
for you are my dearest.
Let the Lord work his magic through me,
but remember : This is our secret,
and our secret alone...."
As my eyes met his, I saw
a glint of greedy red flash in his eyes,
something unfamiliar,
something sinister in the way his hand grabbed my shoulder,
A shiver ran down my spine,
but none disliked the man of God,
nor did I.

Our secret, he had said.
Impressions of his holy hand
still stain my skin twenty years on.
Inerasable, indestructible, imperishable.
As I walk down this forsaken road
numb, oblivious to the world around,
chaos and confusion unknown.
Ashamed of intimacy,
fearful of trust,
loss in faith ,
hatred of my own identity, filled with
a sense of dirty abandonment.
Time after time I look out for men.
Lusty pleasure for them, as they peel away my worth.

For me, it's the constant recurring nightmare,
a leering reminder
of how I fell prey
to the dance of a predatory partner.
To remind me of the scar that never faded.