THERE IS NO SOLACE IN THE SHADE

I breathe in the fumes of the candle lit church, 
the scent of figs and cinnamon clog my nose.
My upper lip is coated with sweat. 
It is 5°C where I stand. 
The doors are open,
the wind does not blow my hair in any direction.

 

I find no solace in this place of worship.

​

S̶h̶e̶  S̶H̶E̶
SHE is in my way,
mouth frothing, ears bleeding, nose running.

​

I call her by her name. 

​

THIS IS NOT THE WAY WE DO THINGS!
This is not the way we live. 

​

I AM YOUR WORDS

​

                                 I AM YOUR MIND

​

I AM EVERYTHING

YOU TOLD ME TO BE.

This is not me,
This is y̶o̶u̶. Y̶o̶u̶. Y̶O̶U̶!̶
                             ME!

​

WE FIND SOLACE IN THIS PLACE OF WORSHIP,
WE FIND SOLACE IN A LIKEMIND.

​

WE ARE YOUR 
MANIFESTATIONS
IDEAS
DARKEST SECRETS

The blood is on y̶o̶u̶r̶
                          OUR HANDS

 

SO FORGIVE US FATHER,
for we have sinned.