Confession to the Holy Father

Forgive me, Father, for tonight I have dreamed

In my dream, I took the girl

Into my mouth and her skin 

Was warm, not like a viper lyin’ 

By the river but like the arrow

Right after you let go.

I had her heart in my mouth, 

Tasted the wet arteries,

The sinewy red muscles,

The sharpness of her blood.

I can’t stop dreamin’ about 

devourin’ her, Father.

Her body softened with grief and gasoline, 

She is found by hands searching for purity.

To writhe out of that tomb into the story where

There is no one else but us. 

The curve of her back,

The curve of wings in flight.

The kind of pretty so sharp it feels like loving a knife. 

Forgive me, Father, for I have spent too much time afraid. 

Afraid to emerge from these shadows that you call a closet. 

From this fear stems the self-hatred,

And from self-hatred stems a belief. 

Not of God but that I would die alone.

A belief I wallowed in for far too long. 

Understand that when I kissed a boy for the first time I was not changed but rather disgusted with myself. 

Disgusted because I did it for you, Father and this faulty religion that worships a god who doesn’t even care for me. 

Understand that when I kissed her for the first time I fell in love with her,

And life,

And myself. 

My mother taught me that the act of aggression speaks much louder than that of passiveness.

I’m sorry but you need to hear this, Father.

I have always been void of religion. 

Even driving home from my own baptism fully believing I had just escaped drowning.

Father, you are not forgiven for smearing my name in wrongdoing.

Heaven and prayer cannot help me. 

These words are coming from an unholy mouth

My hands on my knees

I don’t know where the darkness ends 

and this religion begins.

Forgive me, Father, for tonight I have sinned. 

And I guess,

I guess, Father

This is what you wanted.

I guess, Father, 

That Leviticus 18:20 says that I am an abomination

For welcoming my sweet love of her.

I know the Bible says Adam and Eve 

But her hidden looks shrouded in darkness 

Are much more tempting.

Father, I am a sinner.

If being a sinner means rejecting the poisonous speech

People praise you for. 

Then I have a one way ticket to Hell.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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