Prayers (Sinner)

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Prayers (Sinner)

It’s funny.

Well, not really.

Theres nothing humorous about disgrace.

A fall from grace if you may.

A sinner.

I’m supposed to pray—

be thankful,

feel content with what the Lord has given me.

(I’m not.

I don’t pray.

I’m not a prayer.

I’m a sinner.)

Instead, I’m hateful and resent the curses—the wrong I’ve been ridden with,

The curses that have burrowed and brew in my skin.

The wrong that I can’t get rid of.

(I can’t cut them out.

I can’t cure them,

Because it’s apart of me.)

Embedded in my veins,

My skin,

My intestines,

And I just can’t seem to throw them up.

Intertwined so deeply into my soul they cannot be removed.

(I was born a “queer”

A “black sheep”

A “cross-dresser.”

My curses.

I’m a sinner.)

On my knees—

I beg and wail for forgiveness,

Trying to think of what I’ve did to deserve the body I’ve been shoved into.

What I’ve done to be cast as a “burden”

A “mistake”

A “Defect”

“Useless.”

(I’m a sinner.)

I’m forever hoping-

praying he’ll put me in a better body.

(Now I pray

I pray to undo

my mistakes,

To become a saint.

But none the less

I’m a sinner.)

One that does not sin

One that isn’t weak, no

One that’ll get me my place in front of the pearly gates

because in this body,

I’ll never be worthy.

Maybe God was not who crafted me, no

Twas’ Satan who did.

(I’m a sinner.)

I’m no child of God

Not by choice, no

I’m child of Satan,

“Broken, an enemy of God.”

He could never accept such disdain.

(I’m a sinner.)

“Thoughts and prayers.”

Condolences to a lost soul.

(A soul of which is mine.)

“God bless you.”

Isn’t enough to fix a bastard.

(I’m a child of sin,

Of sinners.

I’m a sinner.)

He says, “If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death.”

(I ought be to maimed

disowned—

dropped into the eternal flame

as though;

I am a sinner.)