We ignored Truths for temporary happiness--
said we loved when we really loved
ourselves. We could not break the walls
separating this room within our rooms, our hands.
We lived without a fault, nails to our
hands. Our hands

tattooed skins and glazed with rain.
Ain't no pain they say, this way--
out of the door and into the pit
all the while playing fire,
at the end of our wits. Be sane

once, and lose it all later,
you hold my hand and say
a prayer. Lord, where do we go when we lose
ourselves? Where are you? He called
the angels' sirens defeaning.

I am not here, I said. I am not
here. *Hear, He said. Here.