Poetry archive from the mental hospital

Praying

And so when I say that I pray, I truly do mean it-
My knees kiss the earth, painting bruised galaxies on my begging body
My crown staring at the silent sky, searching for some kind of sanctity
Eyes shut playing a flick of phosphenes as I force pictures into the fluorescence

Hymns escape my lips
An unconscious wishing in a language I do not speak
"Come down, prove to me your promise, grant my desires or uproot their necessity. Make me feel again. Tell the cloth of time to hurry it's creasing."

A fruitless cry once more tonight