Forgive this Father
I hear those angels speaking of providence
A weight on my shoulders reminding me I could be holy
This is all my mothers ever wanted for me
Bear witness Father
They whisper fire is the only way to cleanse
Ashes to ashes/ dust to dust
The trail of bodies left in the flames wake
Belong to no-one other then me
Hear this now Father
These sunset red lips are paradise to anyone
Who wishes to kiss them
The angels tell me I can use that to ease a sick soul
Trust in this father
I’m told I am only doing Gods work

I thought I understood grief.
But I didn’t until-
I was standing alone in a room.
Missing so many parts of myself,
because I kept giving them away
So the people I love
could keep on living.
-
- they are scavengers and they will pick you clean until it is only your bones that shine in the sun.

-
you relearn coming home

-

You find out how it tastes different
From when you were a little girl
(It’s far less rust tinged these days)

You name everything inside of you
anger or shame
So you never have to look to closely at the hurt
(It's mostly pretending you are something other than empty)

You relearn steady in chaos
you can still patch up
****** gaping holes with shaking hands
Lies leave your mouth faster
Than anyone has time to get the safety off

You relearn two faced
that one you never really let go of
it feels the same as it always did
Like a party trick you could never stop preforming
because it isn’t one
You know liar
The game is you are almost always
Telling a truth



-  What does learning to come home mean; why is it the first place you learn to run from

Talk to me about
praying to god in the shower
Tell me how
you turn the bathtub into a confessional
Were you
praying to god because you believed
or because you had no options left

Talk to me about
coming to a new city
Tell me how
you’ve never been more hollow
Were you
surprised with the lengths you went to fill yourself up
or did you always know
Even filled to the brim everything about you
leaves every-one wanting  


- Do you want more or less of me
- You can never seem to decide

**** the heart
(or was it the hurt)
I need to borrow your spine
Mine is buried in my closet
I have fracture patterns etched into my skin
In the shape of your knuckles
the blue carpet in the living room is worn down
Two spots where my knees fit perfectly
Because praying to god felt a lot like having control back
**** the hurt
(or was it my heart)
The first time I wrote out your name
My hands shook so badly
Because I was always told
names have power
I wasn’t sure if I would survive you having anymore over me
I need to borrow your spine
mine is buried 6 feet deep
I have the taste of ash on my tongue
as you lit everything on fire
And watched it burn and burn
when I woke up in the burnt out shell of house and body
I knew I only had three things left to do
**** the heart, **** the hurt, and bury the spine
Survive
Survive
Survive

I strip myself of everything that makes me
Myself
And then ask  
Who am I?

This is my body
I think
You see some days I am not sure
Because it's covered in opinions and handprints
That do not belong to me
And they are dripping all over this better life I am trying to build

- Was this supposed to be winning?

This is
for every woman who has been told
that you take up to much space
That you may burn
but not enough to catch fire and spread


- Start the ******* world on fire