amaranth

The smell of death surrounds me
Stinking in my nostrils
My brothers carry me to the burial grounds
Throw me on the heap of carcasses

We writhe
We are not dead- yet
Our souls are crushed and oozing from our wounds
We are hurting
You would bury us and cover our stench

Will no one wash us and make us clean?
Let us join the living
Let us dance
Let us sing
We have songs
But our throats are choked with sorrows
The pain snaps our chords
Our songs are sad but beautiful
They are True

Do you see us?
We are the invisible
Only known to you by the discomfort we bring you
The stink and the sharp wailings that scrape at your soft mind
Your fragile wall

Toss us aside
Cover your eyes
Try not to hear
Our groans pounding out of rhythm
Our breaking hearts clanging to the ground
Discord
The melody is wrong
The words are mixed up

The maggots are wriggling from your walls
They are coming for us
Will they devour us?
Who will help us?
We are helpless
Our legs are broken and cannot express our hearts
We wave them at you, yet you do not understand
We are the grotesque
We are the depraved
We are the unsaved
We are calling you
Crying your name in the darkness
But our voices are harsh

The dirt is falling on us
You are pouring your pain on us
Covering us in all our sins

We are drowning
We die alone together
We cannot even comfort each other

Have I only imagined these others with me?
Perhaps I am alone
The writhing I feel is my own body
Twitching
Convulsing
I cannot get right
My left breast is crushed under a heavy boot
As a gentle hand tears the cross from my throat

The death rattle in my chest frightens me
The rasping of my breath as I struggle to stay afloat
In this sea of suffering
How can I expect you to understand
You are higher than I am
I thought we were all the same
I thought I was different
Exceptional
I am the dirt
You walk me and I groan under your feet
You kick my brittle bones
They break and scattered like dry leaves

I am the inherently loved
I am the inherently rejected
I am the inherently wrong
I am the inherently dead

No morning
No mourning today
Nothing has been lost
Broken things are to be thrown away

A flower will grow
An amaranth for your table
Dripping soft and red

Love Lies Bleeding