i can’t write: exercise #4 (unholy)

From a one word prompt: Confess

i confess to not reading the word everyday
to being unkind to my family
my younger sisters
to not praying
and judging my neighbors
my faith fraying
at the seams of some old persian carpet
brought from babylon back to jerusalem

hear the cries of one mother
and her community has shut her out
but dare she not keep the child
dare she hushed and shot at
the babe wrapped not in swaddling clothes
but in shame and accident and lust
dare she
what sin, what great murderess
she does what she feels she must

i confess i am not who i say i am
i ask and plead
wax and wain about serving the poor, justice
i am a fraud
unholy, yet still loved by thee
how can i
wrapped in love still stuttering
finding myself stuck in the mud
there is no saving light
no angel to pull me out
i do what i feel i must
sit and write and go off the path
only to come back
with nothing else
“please help me, i am lost, i know not where i am
what i have wrought with these small hands
please take me in, and sin which holds me
destroy”

and so i confess
i confess
i confess
until all is gone
and i still unholy, am pure
washed in blood of some savior
only to do it all again

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