What Do I Have Left That Is Not Wrong?

This morning I sat
And consumed my Life,
Slowly.
Usually I go fast enough
That things don't get soggy,
But not today.

Consuming my Life,
Pondering milk-absorbed thoughts,
I wonder if there is a fluid
for my heart to drown in.
Slowly filling,
Watering it down,
Until it can not absorb any more,
Or is barely recognizable.

Do my smile and small laugh
Ring false
As I take my iPod headphones out
Of my ears, to better hear
You, listen to what
You have to say?

Your look as you pass by,
The one that
You think I didn't notice
Answers
My question.

Remember hope?
Be filled with joy?

Oh, I would
Love
That, if only
I knew how.
I did once, and either
I've been
Killed,
Or I've killed myself.
Both suck.

I drain the milk from
The bowl, and move
On to tea.
It still heats my hands,
Or the spot where it
Rests
Against my leg,
Even as I sit here and type.

Am I right now just
Cutting
Myself off again?

Psalm 12 + Anne Rice

Your words, LORD, are flawless.
And mine?
Mine are well;
< perfect
You might say.
And, You would be right,
Your words being flawless, and all.

And aw(e)ful.

Why do we not fear You?

And why do I -
We -
Not use Your words to speak?
Greet each other with
Psalms?
Hymns?
Spiritual songs?

That would be a step up,
I suppose.
Do You?

But even then,
Those songs whose lyrics we sing
Think
Speak
Write
Are still

NOT
YOUR
WORDS.

Speak Your words,
And even Your name
Into us,
Onto us,
Through us.

For us.
Pro Nobis

Give us ears to hear.

Give us hearing hearts,
So that our ears might want to listen.

And the lies that are around us?
The words that are not Yours -
The words of society,
Trends, norms, fads, friends, ends
That come now (what?!?) -

Dim them.
You have spoken.

Help us remember.