I wish I could erase
the reminders
of my sin off of my skin.
I scrub it raw,
as if I am stained
with unholy filth
but cannot get away
from the reminder
of relapse.

I was doing so good,
I had felt like
my halo had been dusted off
and placed back on my head.

Only to be taken away
with the very hands
that put it there.

Even though I have fallen from heaven again,
I will shake the dirt from my wings,
heal their markings,
and return.

I must always remember,
no matter how many times I have fallen,
that I have a place
to go back to...

Heaven.