I throw myself away so no one,not even you, can have me.Taste that on your lips, eatthe bitter fruit of my parting:I am already too far away.

I felt happier yesterday. I do not feel happy today – I feelabandoned and godless and brokenin a church built for the damnedwith artificial light through stained glassand warped wooden doors.

But nobody writes fairy talesabout the ugly and poemsare not there for the brokenand I will never find myselfin the words of a hymnnor will any whispered prayerever say my name(which name, which meam I looking for?)because I am shoutingat a cross splintered into piecesby my angry fists, and cryingat the stained glass fallinglike killing rain around me.

I cut off all my hair, cut awayat the soft curves of my clothinguntil I have edges once again,using my body like broken glassto slice at the world around me.I have to take something back,because I have nothing more to give.Eloi, eloi, lema sabachthani?

I cannot love my neighbour as myselfbecause you bid me do him no harm,and I cannot love my enemiesbecause they keep crawling inside meand tearing out all my emotions:if I am made in your image then youare not somebody I want to seebecause why believe in the broken,why depend on the weak,why seek the lost and bewilderedwhose only answer is “please”?

But you are a god here in brokenness,a bloody Eden born at your feet.