Lote or Have

Is it love, is it hate?
Is it hate, is it love?
Is it Lote
Is it Have
What is this anguish,
this stupid repetition
of insanity?
Is it have,
is it lote,
is it hate,
is it love,
is it sick?
It ought to be.
©2005 P.T. Love

Precious Doe aka Erica Green

It is unsettling to find myself bursting into tears as I attempt to read the accounts of how, finally, the perpertrators of the heinous crimes committed against the tiny little girl we here in Kansas City had affectionately named Precious Doe were finally uncovered. I didn't realize that I had emotionally inhaled during that horrible time in 2001 when first her decapitated body and a few days later her severed head were found in local woods. I didn't realize that I wouldn't exhale emotionally until her murder(s) were brought to justice. I only thought that I was just a local citizen, appalled by yet another atrocity carried out against an innocent child, and that her's was just another senseless crime that I personally could do nothing about.

I didn't attend any of the prayer vigils. I didn't take stuffed animals to her makeshift memorial site. I didn't hand out flyers asking for information. But I did take the time one afternoon months after the crime to drive by the location where she was found and to say a quiet prayer. I did caution everyone I knew to make absolutely sure they didn't let their babies out of their sight -- even for a moment. And I did hurt inside out wondering what torment that precious baby might have suffered before her life was snuffed out.

That her own mother confessed to being intimately involved in her savage murder defies my ability to comprehend. Her own mother, not some sex crazed over the road trucker, not some sick tormented serial killer, not some racial hate driven maniac --her own mother. Her own mother watched as a grown man kicked her four year old baby in the head for crying and refusing to go to sleep. Watched as her four year old baby fell into unconsciousness. Did nothing while life ebbed from her baby's body for days because she was concerned about her and her man's own welfare because they were both felons? Her own mother watched her baby die then carried or at the least accompanied the man who carried her baby into the woods with a pair of hedge trimmers to cut off her baby's head and to dispose of her like garbage? The betrayal, oh my God the betrayal that tiny little heart must have felt in the last days of her life breaks my heart in two.

Something is wrong - the world had gone mad. I'm sorry y'all I'm postive the...

Lights Out!