A Sinner’s Prayer

I remember the torment of quiet, and the prayer that followed..In the darkest of days past…I found my God. He took me, spirit in hand, and gave me my senses, new and babe like…fresh, and strong. Resilient and shy to the worlds sharp edges, but I phased in dizzy spells, sinfully pained, and so my mind wouldn’t let me thank him…wouldn’t let me shout, or cry, or beckon him to forgive. Who deemed me dead to the world but myself? I shook the pavement once. I, myself, dipped and catapulted to an infinite and spacious atmosphere, rich and darling, and pleading to the skies yelling “ Save me! I’m not awake! I’m not alive! Why is everything muted!? The beat box in my heart is dull, and the thump is wretched and hums a low monotone! But Living is loud and I hear creaky drips of unforgiving silence! Save me from silence, God! Grant me a yell, a shriek, a bellow! Anything! But bring me noise! Where is my noise!!!!? This quiet kills…it kills.” And then, all relinquishment of my sanity was fulfilled and I grew hollowed brown and vacant. I literally soured, and twisted an icky maroon on the inside, inside me. It was dead. It was dull, and I told myself that the living don’t dwell HERE anymore…no. Past the crying out, light years away from hope, I took me for granted every second that I could and I knew this punishment thrice! I knew this smudge across my cheek, this bite mark upon my neck, what digs and mutilates, and claims as an outcast of my fleshy parts. Disgraceful and wet, and alone again. I just sat on the ashes I’d burned for myself to keep warm enough to mock the chill of dawn. And I waited…rocking…back and forth and back and forth…holding my legs woefully, dear to me, like the innocent memory of a child hopeful, but abandoned and aborted by a bad mother’s choice.  My weeps seeping through the cotton of cloth, expanding my pupils as they watched the salty tears roll then disappear…Insanity touched my fingers….it knew me now. And I was lifted in a whirlwind of my potential successes, hovering above the world looking at all of what had become of my being. I needed A sweet. A kind. A gentle. A laugh. A gracious holy cleansing piece of somethin’! Because this is not gonna work, woman! This chanting rage and pitiful pounding in my skull is continuously infuriated, and tearing my goodness to shreds and I can’t remember why I let it! When I stopped fighting for my own right to dream free! To let my soul release its’ calling, powerful and just, like the phoenix reborn, wriggling and extending my arms out with enthusiastic expression, the simple joys of portraying exclamation marks carelessly on my phrase, powerful adjectives and me exercising my right to live and let living heal me chaotically! There used to be a spark, a light, blinding…an infinite in my chest, behind my smile and it was so good to me before life and ignorance took hold of my wings and yanked, scratching years away from my system, from my innocent, painting a fresh coat of troubles onto my surface.  It was my fault, see….I put myself at risk. I plunged headfirst , portraying a want to be wanted, a need to be sought after. And here on my thighs, marks burned into symbols, recollections of a woman scorched by her own heat! Bring the noise, lord! Bring the calamity, and tantalizing smoky haze from fighting desires, bring the lust in all its’ teasing tantrums, scrubbing off the stink of shame from a fly by night affair three hours before morning! Bring the blush back to my skin and the shivers I get, rippling fast when I sense male eyes, luscious and hungry, speaking vibrations to my garden, fragrant and newly warm! Let me make like freedom and thrive by choice again, and I promise a fresh renewal every morn, a vibrant soliloquy, audacious and flawlessly original to portray my thanks to you that has shown me favor! Leave me not to hear without hearing and feel without feeling real! Put the taste of mortality back on my tongue where it belongs . Bring back my rebellious self…a flower for a righteous cause.