I break it
wholly, this time, the shame a red reef of guilt
traipsing across burning skin.

I keep getting
angry with you, unreasonable, unfounded,
unlovable moments that you always see.

Why were they
all blonde, whilst my long hair coils dark
a sin choking at my neck.

One a lawyer,
two a doctor and three a nothing that sits
at home and eats at your words.

I keep trying
to make myself believe that you do not
love me, when you say you do.

You do, love
me. Speak blasphemous prayer (I am enough)
though, I never have been before.