Must you make my bones smoke
arranged upon your altar
my consuming misery
our only communion?
You tear at me even now
incessantly.
Since my beginning
your attempted murder
was the only true abortion.
And yet I exist for you The Sadist
to pursue and pulverize my hopes,
to punish my dreams.
My family you slay by my side,
that I should see and repent
for no sin of mine.
With desperate rage you strike me down
seeking to squeeze some worship
or grind some devotion.
But I reject your authority
and with final forced exhalations
I will spit the words, curse you!
So render my fat, flay my skin,
slit my throat, and burn my body.
Take your sacrifice,
by force.
But I will give my only gift,
a poem, perfectly wrapped
with the dead skin of faith:
Tonight's Moon
"Full but low in the sky
Swaddled by the Lord's gauze,
Who but mankind could deny
Or charge Him without cause?
Now in peace I can die
And twice see God's face-
in the sky."
I once loved you
But you hated me-
always.
So in silence I await
your final assault.
