Poem – “Stranded on my Knees” – Religion – 10/5/2020

How much blood
Can erase the letters on these worn pages?
I have become something else
To the bitterness
Of one heart, written in the soil,
Of one droplet of crimson,
Fed to my mouth.
He glistens on the cross,
He stays there,
Sheltering his own eyes with the sun,
Finding a place where I cannot run
To make my home.

Upon my knees,
Stranded in senseless belief,
For faith has never been my sculpture.
Blood runs wildly,
Wickedly
From my faucet of death.
I can keep love
Close to heart, eating tears to my drowning.
I can break,
Though can I build?
Can I see scenery
That never wilts?

Like a flood of everlasting
Terror to my face,
Trust can sculpt itself,
It can sculpt itself
To then have only the body drowned,
Never the features,
Never the mask,
Never the lies
I have swallowed whole,
Like one faceless serpent
Who can shed his skin,
Though never the tears to the soil.

Pain is the only emptiness
That I cannot feel.
Not like him,
Not him.

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