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They Took My Pencils Away: A Prayer

TW…psychiatric hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self harm, the Temple
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My doctor asked me to write down warning signs
I wrote “praying”
And he asked me why

I know I haven’t been to the temple in a while
But I’d know these white walls anywhere
A nurse helps me change into a hospital gown
I think I fell asleep standing up

“Welcome sister, can I see your recommend?”
I sign the consent to treatment form.
“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost”
The ER doctor takes his hands off my head and sits next to me
“We’re very lucky you didn’t take enough to hurt yourself, but this is clearly a cry for help.”

Continue reading

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Under the Boughs of Love

​I have paid a price you cannot fathom 

To claim an authenticity you but freely enjoy. 

See me.

Lift the hands which hang down and be my rearward. 

See me as I press forward. 

I am not coming to join you in a great and spacious building

But as a brother and as a sister under the boughs of love.

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Titles of Liberty

On loving glass women
Glass men
And glass gods

On welding your hands
To curved iron rods

On fruit made of sunlight
That burns when you eat
On wars that you fight
With shattered retreats

On grey trees
And grey neighbors
Grey houses
Grey time

On boundaries of smoke
And holograph lines

On the girl made of starstuff
And the boy forged in coal
On babies held hostage
On shards in your soul

On trauma that's bitter
And trauma that's sweet
On candy nails
And broken feet
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Jesus and My Feet

There's a space that begs for poems
But I have no blood to write in
And I'm too young to choke to death on broken dreams

And I'm drowning in these memories
But I have no blood to fight them
So I think that I should probably go to sleep

But I'll sit here in the space you've made
From poetry and rhythm
And I'll try not to feel the weight between these notes

And on Sunday they will talk about
How Jesus healed the broken
But they'll never stop to ask who crushed my feet
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A Prayer to Heavenly Mother

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Did you not possess me in the beginning;
before your works of old?
Did you not cover me in my mother’s womb?
You are compassionate and merciful;
You do not cast away your people which you foreknew.

Am I not the workmanship of thine own hands?
Did you not form me in your glory?
Have you not chosen me,
by sanctifying me as I came forth from the womb? Continue reading

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Letters From the Sea

I got your letter in the mail today
Its corners dripping salt
And I wonder if you think of me
Where castle ceilings vault

I set it on my bookshelf
And I haven't broke the seal
I don't want to read of starscapes
That I don't believe are real

You wrote your address on the corner
With ink that smelled like space
But I don't want to read appeals
To my ancestors or grace

So your letter's on my bookshelf
Dripping salt and grains of sand
There's too much sea inside it
To be opened on the land
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Silence of Sodom


You are the silent sin of Sodom.
You and your polished granite stone.
You guide the strings of a marionette,
and believe you have no sins for which to atone.

I’m sitting here in this frigid cold,
looking in beyond the glass.
Where is this sword and shield,
to protect me from those who harass? Continue reading