So
where was I
I
started down that hall toward the guilt I wanted to escape
There
is so much blood on my hands that I cannot breathe freely
I
snatch gasps in short staccato
I
know that I am imperfect now
I
know the love I yearn for is bereft of any meaning
I
abstain anyway
So
why is my life hanging on the tread of her feet
Why
is she waiting for my entrance to slap me backward?
Like
George W I’m noticing every breath
Feeling
every sideways glance as an accusation
It’s
only absolution that fails me
Were
He to re-emerge I would fall at his feet and wail
‘Father,
I didn’t mean it. I didn’t ever understand her decision
But
I know now
I
know how it feels to want to take your life.’
Mary
is always at the heart front
I
appeal to youth and madness
She
watches and disapproves
But
what can I do to appease her
My
yang flails openly in a void without yin
