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Crucify
Two narrow boards
rough-hewn wood
cut
from the ancient Tree of Knowledge
felled
with the dull, unsharpened saw
of guilt
going back and forth
endlessly
Until at last it toppled
with a crash
Laboriously,
Painstakingly,
I chopped,
carving out two long pieces of lumber
with my hatchet of heartlessness.
One of 6 feet.
One of 12.
Slowly sanded them with the abrasiveness of my voice.
Nailed them together with angry blows
of my heavy hammer
of hate.
It was beautiful.
I was so proud.
I picked it up and carried it
everywhere,
everyday,
So that everyone could admire my handiwork
My cleverness
My skill.
At first,
I tied it around my back
but it wasn’t secure
it was hard to balance
so I added nails
more and more every day
Growing up poor — Bam!
A traffic jam — Whack!
A slight, an insult — Thwack!
every nail a grievance
tearing through my flesh and into my soul
fixing my body
to its frightful form
until I couldn’t move.
And then,
I asked —
“Why have you forsaken me?”
Why do we crucify ourselves? Every day, I crucify myself.
Tori Amos — Crucify
I just completed my third book, a work of mythic and mystical poetic fiction named A Song of Shadows and Light.
You can learn more about it, and all my work, here:
I recognized Tori right away! ♥️