please raise your hand,

whomever else of you

has been a child,

unaware that you are

not, bearing 185 pounds

of another’s strain,

torn flesh & broken bones

hidden behind porcelain veneer,

thinking your temple is yours,

a vessel of chastity, a home

shielded by god’s name,

but then you call him,

screaming for help,

throat now sandpaper,

so painfully coarse,

only to hear the locusts

hum & gates close,

a 911 call left on hold,

the loudest of silences,

you are utterly alone,

porcelain now cracked,

looted.

 

                               lucifer was once

god’s favorite after all.