I found you leaning to madness.
The slimy hands of sanity leaving you like a stranger.
Like a stranger watching you crumpled on the floor.
A stranger that does nothing but sigh.
Sigh and leave.
why are you reciting verses?
Why are you calling Jesus?
Why are suddenly a quiet Anglican humming hymns?
And brushing tears.
What is this shame that has you breaking on your knees?
Hungry and torn.
Like a fruit peeled back, your naked back sings in anger.
Give me your sadness
Give me your pain
Give me your dirt as heavy as lead.
Lay your brokenness on my palms, for I too can wail
I too can weep to the moon.
I too can die.