Gracious god, I Am
handcuffed to the bed
(white wine and
cigarettes)—
I will not forgive regrets.
This hornet’s nest, a home—
I choke on church bells,
starved of faith—
an empty sternum, bellyache.
Among the living dead,
I speak the language:
“Let me in!”
But I cannot betray my sin.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
Gracious god, I Am
handcuffed to the bed
(white wine and
cigarettes)—
I will not forgive regrets.
This hornet’s nest, a home—
I choke on church bells,
starved of faith—
an empty sternum, bellyache.
Among the living dead,
I speak the language:
“Let me in!”
But I cannot betray my sin.
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