A Murder Of Sins

Hold me down, for my sins
Are coming home to roost.
Their bright plumage
Stark contrast
Against my grey skies.
Cries haunting like siren’s song,
They fly at me singing
Their infernal melody,
Of wrong actions, good intentions
And lost opportunities,
And take home in my ragged body.

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
They harp on what I left unsaid.
They nag at me for those
Feelings I refuse to acknowledge,
They cackle in glee when I bite my
tongue, so hard it bleeds, when I
Swallow the bile that rises,
Keep my face a stone,
As my heart churns with rage.

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
Go ahead, conform, they sing.
Smile wide, they sneer.
Be a good child,
Go ahead. Nod and smile.
Pitiful thing can not even cry!
You feel nothing but rage,
Are you even human?
Shame on your shell of an existence!
Are you even living?
Why don’t you make more of us?
They whisper, perching
On my already heavy shoulders.

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
As they prod and pick and feast
On my darkest parts,
I sit with my heart in my hand,
My eyes fixed onto something,
Anything that would let me live.
Do they know?
Do they know I mourn
Deaths not passed?
Do they know I crave
Loves I never had?
Do they know I am so close—
Too close—to the abyss but even it refuses
To stare back, lest I catch its eye
And force it to witness my hollow self
greater than its own?

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
Today is the day they home in,
The day they pick me apart,
When the night is deeper and
Dawn nowhere nearer.
Let me just breathe,
Give me a wide berth,
Forgive my misgivings,
For today I care less for existing.
“Do you remember back when…”
They rasp. I do, I do, I unfortunately do,
You wretched creatures!

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
They raise the dead past
As if they are The Moon,
Pull my tides, push my waves,
Reshore, restore those painful
Memories, echoes of past long gone
But not yet forgotten.
They watch my head held under
Stale waters of my yesteryears,
Misgiving, hatred, venom I see.
How I wish I could be free
Of these hurtful days of wrongs;
Not knowing the damage done,
A mere child wielding words
Heavy as a warrior’s axe.

Hold me down, for my sins
Have come home to roost.
I trudge around,
My head forever drowned
In my stagnant pool of thoughts.
Eyes unfocused, ears unhearing,
I stumble through life as if
I have never seen the light.
I scrub my skin so hard it bleeds.
Wash my mouth and I rinse—
Twice no, thrice! That aftertaste of
The lies that left me,
The poison that’s left in me—
Violently sickening—refusing
To be washed out.

Hold me down,
For my sins have come
To roost, to feed, to breed.
To add to their murder,
Yet another sin.
I shall let you in for a brief respite,
Despite the chaos that you bring,
You are still a part of me,
Something borne of me.
Maybe this will begin to lift,
What traps you within my void,
Lets you leave,
Leave me lone,
Maybe this will start
The end of it all.

Come my sins,
Come home to roost.
I shall hear your taunts,
Your jeers and jests.
I shall let me remember
All that’s passed, best forgotten.
Come, sing me your woes,
Let me remember, and then forgive her,
My little self, your Maker,
Let me hold her in
My memories, let me console her.

Come my sins,
Come home again, a little later.
Work is heavy and me lonely,
Maybe we shall keep company.
One sin a time, we shall pick apart
The veil that trapped you
In my eternal winter.
And maybe, just maybe,
Let The Sun shine through,
And I’ll heal again,
Grow my mindscape again,
And you will finally find seat—
Among the vibrant flora of
Hope, dreams and future—
A camouflage, of your desire.
So, come my birdies.
Come home so we can mend
Our hearts, our souls and
Let the cracks show for
The light to shine in.

Come my sins,
Now you’re finally home.