"The Hardest Part About It" by Donna Moran

The hardest part about it .....what is it.....WHAT IS IT  ?

Is "IT" in me, the hardest part about me ? The puppy in the mill breeding thoughts distorted by another's belief "ie" means of measurement to be or not to be.  "IT" being my father wanting boys....not me...his measurement  your response to his lash....a leather strap or worse yet his words when"IT"  came out after his 3rd highball of the night...the vapor shimmering  off his lips thru the fluorescent light descending from above... heat waves rising of fresh hot tar that has just been pressed in to the earth in late July. 

CRY....cry no tears even thou your crying inside...no tears if you want to be a man...a man means no tears no frills.  I will show you something to cry about...YOU will know what real pain is !!  

You will be a man "IT " said.

"IT" was brutal ..the lashes no longer come from his hand it comes from mine...THOSE ITZIE BITZIE thoughts that come in the early morning before my eyes are even open...before the presence of me....not as often as they once did....they rest upon the ceiling of my unconsciousness....waiting for the "It"...soaking my t shirt..."IT" was making my heart race..."IT" was fear.  Fear from everything and everybody..including the ITZIE BITZIE in me. This is what "IT" taught me.

 The big "IT" died ...now I am left with the Itzie Bitzie in me...

and I can handle it....

with your help ....you have taught me differently