To God, Love, Your Child

I lost control

Every night

I press my fingers

Into steeples

And pray that salvation

Shall come

That demons will no longer come

In the evenings

That the stress will no longer

Bleed through the veil of the

Evening and I will no longer

Look to the mirror for validation

My father used to always tell me

That he did not believe in church

That nature was his church

And I wonder

As the fan sneers above me

And the quiet night mocks me from

Its shadowed corners

When I ask for forgiveness and

Pension, will you listen to me

In the raw minutes of midnight

Or will you ignore me

Because it is only my soul and

Not a glorious house with billowing

Curtains that I have to offer

I lost control

And every night it becomes harder to

Force my fingers together when I know

That the stress will pierce the night

Like it does every night

Ripping the veil until I can

Do nothing