(does a lamb know it was bred for slaughter? when it finds out, does resentment course through its veins? father does it hope to be of use again does it hope for a better life or does it just wait to die)
inside my soul are the ghosts of abraham and isaac and they are playing out that story, only there’s no ram and no messenger and no god to say “stop, you have proven yourself faithful”. inside my soul is genesis chapter twenty-two verses one to thirteen, only it is just me perpetually offering myself, binding myself, raising the knife and obeying.
i am the sacrifice you raised me to be. i swallow the resentment and let it rust and deteriorate where i think no one can see. i am giving. i am still trying. is that not perfect?
no. my mother and i are sitting in the dark and she is crying and telling me she has failed me. i am twenty-one (xxi) with rage and venom and blood under my nails and she is apologizing for my childhood with closed eyes and her head bowed like she’s confessing in church instead of talking in my room.
for a prayer she says “i’m sorry. i see you, i know you’re struggling. i’m sorry it was all put on your shoulders” and for amen she says “i want you to be happy now, too”.
be happy now, too.
lord what is happiness? is it not to slice my chest and bleed into the soil for their grain lord is it not to eat the rind so there’s enough fruit for the rest lord if that was not right why was i made for this. why have i grown like this why am i me?
my mother says “my love, live for yourself. you deserve to be free.” but god hear me have i proven myself faithful? worthy? perfectly useful?
mother, forgive me. forgive me.
all i know is this cross.
all i know is to live for my family.
— andi
for @nosebleedclub