Saturday, February 25, 2012

Be Near Me

I pulled away from Your love
Clung to my hurt
Made a bed for my pain

I stopped speaking to You
And found solace with my fear
Forgot how tenderly You hold me
Holding fast to my adulatory

My shame called me foolish for believing
That You could love a sinner like me

I started living in closets
And under beds

I thought of God as the one pushed on me midst measured skirts-to-the-middle-of-the-knees, two buttons on a polo shirt. Look good and no one will know you're hurting kind of god. He was looking over my shoulder waiting to find a reason to punish me.

A god made by fearful hands
And human minds
He's big, distant, and constantly disappointed in me

He was found right where I left him
Laying in a basket of broken dolls, razors, tube tops, and dirty jeans
The thought was lurking
Waiting for the past to find me

The god of my childhood found me again
With whip and chains
And the crushing sense of disappointment
Kept me hurting
Kept me wanting

I do not know where one died
And the Other was born
I believed it to be in coffee shops with books and prayers. It may have been on my knees, but I have a sense that God has been fighting with mine to set me free.

I forgot how You love to hold me
Clung to what I imaged you should be

And I am on my knees

My prayer is simple
Be near me

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Death Has a Smell

Death has a smell
It dwelled between his fingers
In the toxic smoke resembling his breath
And out of his gaping wounds
Infected and bleeding onto my skin seeping dreams
Dreams leaking from glands built from baby dolls and tea parties

His hands were pinecones
Taking my skin as they pulled down my side
Rejected by the forest
Forsaken by nature
And what once harbored seeds for the ground
Is planting his destruction inside of my womb

His eyes
They stay with me
Speaking my name
In hoarse painful tones

Justice found disgust in his eyes
Turned a back to them
In the form of empty words
Buried under the tortured thought
Words remain… useless…

Sounds paint sympathy lightly
On heavy eyes crushing
The second finishing what the first left behind
They lay on my chest
Buried under my skin
Making their way to my heart

My perspective floated
Years have pushed me back… slowly
What am I seeing
After time

Floating, I saw his hands digging into my thighs
They broke like branches
And he tore my skin where he left depravity

The courage of a soldier
The bravery of martyrs
Begged fear to be cast aside
To look in those eyes
Laying frozen
Time had not healed my wounds
Time left all things behind
Moving selfishly
Telling me I could pick up the pieces
If my heart ever came to mean that much to me

A phantom feeling
Taking years of pictures of the world
And painting them over
Darker and out of control
Always dangerously balancing between
I can control this…
And I can not control anything…
Constantly searching for
A point

The point ends with the words
Bastard remains quaint
Son of a bitch takes your spotlight and shifts
No, he will burn under spotlight
Skin dripping

Rape has been turned into poetry