Living Dead

A patchwork quilt in a state of putrefaction

No one can consecrate me

I haunt myself for no one’s benefaction

And no one remembers me

You plug your ears, paint my body black and blue

I’m silent, my voice has faltered

I learned to hate prayer because god is deaf too

He let go of my halter

I became stone, my tears have etched out canyons

Crystallized, now I can’t speak

Met my fate, so I called off the battalion

And I mourn what I won’t be

Forgive me my sins and what next I will do

As yet writ in my psalter

Anoint and burn me so I am made brand new

The specter at the altar