Skip to content

cleansing

1 March 2010

Days lengthen, but fascinations linger
Burning bright-red blotches onto unprotected flesh;
Why this self-chosen, self-imposed sorrow
(No, no, not true sorrow at all;
Some simulacrum, a pseudo-suffering to come before a fall)
That I choose, like some
Ugly, festering blister
To pick and pick and pick at
(Only making the corruption worse)
Rather than sucking up, being a man
And lancing it, drained once and for all,
The stinging Light of glory
Cleansing, lovingly, with antiseptic bite.

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: