Forgive me father for I have sinned.
I know nothing better, nothing but this.
This stings, and manifests into something wishful.
Wishes are for the spoiled, so I hold it back.
Forgive me father for my hands weave only the strongest.
Forgive me for I can’t love what I don’t acknowledge.
I hold for you a telephone and a number,
Your words are miserable so I write you a script.
Forgive me father for I am not the best nor the worst.
I stand in the middle, my truth sometimes hurts.
You gave me a life, a seed to blossom from.
But your hands were weary of compassion.
It left me trite.
Forgive me father, I won’t act selfless.
I’ll paint rouge on my lips and beige on my cheeks.
I’ll offer you a place, but the rest is mine to keep.
Forgive me father, I know nothing but acidity.