Break me, Father

For I am unworthy.

My heart is calloused; prideful;

Dirty.

Flood me with you, drown me in peace

Make empty my thoughts and dreamless my sleep

I cannot swim through this, I cannot climb out

I need you to break and

Remake me

Somehow.

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Self inflicted

We sometimes want what will not help…

We seek the lights that will melt our hands

Fingers stretching to touch the gold;

Grasping flames not meant to hold…

We sometimes trust what is always wrong…

Freeing floods deeper than our souls,

Lamenting as we cannot float

Cries for mercy cut off by mill-stones

We trap ourselves then weep for home.

Island

I do not need to make all things so real

In an effort to anchor, I let everything

Feel

Personal, true

It’s crazy, it subdues

How can one person bear the weight of a billion wrongs?

How can two trembling hands

count the words of endless songs?

Two bony shoulders cannot straighten under the weight

Of every single human beings’ worst moment and mistake.

I must stop anchoring myself to loss

To suffering, and breakage, and torment without cause.

What business have I to empathize

With every one at once?

If I do not break to clean my faith

It will crumble, like dust, all at once.

Real?

Not even sunlight can banish the storms

The tempest that turns all it touches to what I abhor

Tributes of gold that flow from the trees;

Touching the sky to flame, to beauty

Nevertheless, my eyes protest

I do not see light. I do not see grace

A simple drive and what do I find?

Woman and child, together outside

God, they’re in agony!

Holding what’s left, someone’s final breaths

They weep, clad in flesh…

A blink and a jolt, I shudder

Reality returns?

This is not a vigil.

Just chores. Elbows deep in a bag of mulch.

Relent

Can. I drift. Away. Someplace

Calling friends new and old

Disgrace

Can I float down every stairwell

Ever built, destroyed, or wrought to sell

Can I curl up inside my wretchedness

Among the thoughts that call me

Worthless

Can I give in to the pounding rain

That floods my brain and calls my name

Can I let it drown me again?

Who will stop me if I let them in?

Citsorca

How hard is it to mend

A mind once bent and

Torn? Is it possible to sew

Each neural fabric, a mental

Storm?

My mouth no longer allows a plea

A few eyes are all that’s left of me

Deathly primary shock, the ending freeze

Exquisite numbness is what will finish things.

Make someone a murderer. Distance yourself.

Each person ignores the ones they could help.

Dear one, knock!

Enter if you will.

Anybody sent by God

Does naught but bear goodwill.

How pleasant a task,

Every prisoner asks

“Let me go free! Absolved of all things!”

Poisoner or poisonee… we all need

Miraculous, priceless

Eternal… cleansing.

P

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