Lent Poetry: Disappeared

Why must I amputate
my stomach
to fulfill
some fucked up
standards
of “health”
and “beauty”?

why is it i feel
like I am bashing my
head
against walls
when I talk about how
I think this
is just medically sanctioned
anorexia

why
must
i
be shamed
and abused
and medically neglected
“for my health”

why
must
i
always
strive
to
take
up
less
and
less

s
p
a
c
e
?

Lent Poetry: He is a Healer

He comes to me
lays His hands on my head
and says:

“I can’t promise you
that things will get better.

I can’t tell you that there won’t
be more violence
in My name.

I can tell you that
you will have life
and love
and laughter
and sorrow
before you cross over.

You need not stay at
Death’s altar
in order to understand
Us.

Remember to love
in this life, and remember Me
as I should be.”

Lent Poetry: Two Weeks

I am ready
for the boxes to be packed
and the movers
to take away the contents
of our house

I am ready
to see the sun from a
different place
to experience the seasons
and unpack boxes

I am ready
to set up altars
and desks
to do writing
in the new house

I am ready
for the new
and the different
to be with my wife
in a new place
with new people

I am ready
for the moving
to be complete
and for our lives
to move forward

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