So this other poem is just something
that I experienced as a young mom going
through domestic violence.
I was shot when I was pregnant with my first born,
but luckily, we both survived that night.
This was back in March 20th, 2000.
And I'm thankful every day that we're still
able to walk the Earth.
Every year when that time would come up,
it kind of was, like, depressing,
or I didn't know what was wrong.
I just kind of felt down.
And sometimes I didn't even realize
that it was that same day.
But the past few years doing a lot of healing,
I feel like, now I look at it as our survival date.
That's the day that we were chosen to still be here.
And if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have had my other four
children as well.
So this one's called "That Night I Prayed to the Moon."
"I called out to the medicine woman.
Did she hear me across the desert from Salt River to Sells?
I was a young woman from the rez-- a child,
really, 19 years old around the sun carrying
my first born, heart twisted in knots,
stomach turning as the bullet was released, and I was shot.
Where is the blood?
Why can't I feel my arm?
How could someone do me so much harm?
I could only hear my heartbeat while we hauled ass
down the street like a cinematic scene.
This wasn't part of my dreams.
Damn that fucking devil and his schemes.
Came for me on many occasions, bruises and abrasions
chipping away at my soul since I was about five years old.
That's when he first came for me in the form of family.
I was all alone with secrets to tell.
The voices in my head telling me not to yell.
Inside, I wanted to scream.
The rage turned to flames from holding it all in.
For years and years, I held shame.
Was I to blame?
Who sent these people to hurt me?
Was I to blame?
Why was I the target?
Pulling knives out my back seemed to be the norm.
My heart withered and worn, so young with the heart so old.
These battles continue in my head.
Will I live to see the day?
That's my goal, to beat every demon until they bleed,
they'll never feel the need to feed.
I wish I could save you all but unfortunately,
the world is full of devils.
They take as they please.
To them, we are disposable.
Murdered and missing women in all four directions.
When will that damn devil learn his lesson?
Our fire grows.
The prayers rise.
Madness in my eyes as I unveil the skies.
I see beauty.
I see peace.
Time to forgive and time to release,
but that's the hard part.
Got used to walking around with a broken heart.
I stand for all the spirits who cry,
the ones who were never found.
Chaos in my eye, and I can't lie.
Nightmares become reality more often than not.
Telling my truth through poetry, thought I would give it a shot.
My voice cracks as they mock the woman I am,
who I became only because they'll never
be able to water down my flame.
I give you a second to close your eyes and dream.
What will be your reality?"