She worships you. Your sinful indulgence and all.
She laps up your grey blood
and nourishes her flab on your staleness.
On her weaknesses and confessions you elevate yourself.
Higher.
The altar cracks.
She darts to heel your splinter but her limbs are broken under the collapse.
Upset at her lack of agency and engrossed in prayer she drowns herself in her own tears unknowingly.
In the end your ***** amassed.
An unexpected end to a story of fatherly shepherding.
See not every story has a Noah and his Arc,
most end with the egotistical on the altar, and the saints martyred in the gutter.
Sacrifice is still bloodshed.

Sleep stands at the altar of today’s sacrifice,
Knife poised to plunge at the heart of the matter,
Knife poised to plunge at the heart of the matter,
Knife poised...

All my life I have kneeled down at your altar
Sacrificing my innocence and self worth
A lamb who's blood would gain me favor
"the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist"
Yes, I worshipped you like a God I was afraid of
Old Testament wrath brewed in our home
And I readied myself to **** what I loved
As Abraham would, as sheep do for their shepherds
For I knew my creator loved me, and called me love
"For he disciplines those he loves, and he punishes each one he accepts as his child. "
By the stripes inflicted upon me I would be freed
Of this shame and unworthiness you bestowed

But it turns out "Father" does not mean "God"
Sometimes it just means "alcoholic"
Sometimes discipline just means abuse
My faith is now placed in me, and the God that made us both.

She laid her head on the altar
wrapped around her arms.
Her heart was covered in
pressing pains and thorns.

She cried and cried for hours
until the altar's wood was clean.
Her arms sweaty
with tears in between.

Her tears seeped into her soul
as He touched her heart.
She felt better
and she knew that was a start.

I tremble before you
At your alter
For lives unreached; all shall falter
Craving touch
Falling into clutch
Sweet lease
Shown to be brief

the strength in you
is voraciously eaten
by the soul of me.
your hands introduce
the touch of messiahs  
to my frail , battered skin.
the tips of your cosmos
trace my spine
where your lips soon follow.

I am an altar.

It is not possible to erase
Those thoughts, that pain
Those tears, that anguish
Each time i touch them
They awaken again
Like fire from a slumber

Let’s dip gently in goodness

In smiles, in God’s glory
In music, in nature
A little bit here
And then some there
Some sweetness
Some love
Some beauty

Dissolving

Moment by moment
The saltiness of tears
Cleansing the anguish
Healing the pain
Drowning in goodness
All darkness and shame

Tears appear once more
Sweet like a smile
Wrapped in inexplicable joy
Our heart blooms
    And offers itself
        At the altar
                Of peace
                        Dancing
                                with love

Somewhere along
the line of
meeting him for
the first time
and being left
at the altar, is
the best day of her life.

-HIY