today. do you know what day it is. has the thought yet to cross your mind or are you still too busy divorcing my memories, pretending your hands aren't ***** from burying the past. have you wiped your palms clean of these sins or are we still entertaining the idea of holiness here. when was the last time you stepped foot inside of a church. threading my fingers through your own as if in silent prayer to never forget this feeling. can you feel it yet. the confessional booth of your bedroom and all the times we sinned so hard that hell started to sound like a happily ever after. do you think about that day as much as I do. you down on one knee presenting me with a diamond ring brighter than god's teeth. the beginning of the end. who do I apologize to for never making it past the preamble. whose house is this church we call a home. all I know is that I would come to you every sunday morning for the rest of eternity if you'd just open up your ******* doors. tell me how to love again, tell me to repent. command me seven hail mary's and watch me taste your name through every single one. your name. honeysuckle and rosemary. the day we buried the children we never had, the day I carved their names into the tombstone of my heart. every day there is a new funeral. voicemails and memories and all things not tangible enough to warrant a casket but still tangible enough to line the graveyard of my mind. *hail mary full of grace, please let me forget his face.