Knees to the floor
Face to the screen
Thoughts are abhor
To fall to routine

“Bless me my father
For I have sinned
I falter at alter
Where can I begin?

It has been years
Since last confession
Disregard these tears
And place your discretion

Oh father, I lie
Mouth drips, uncouth
I need not imply
With this artificial truth

All of my being
Soaked in such shame
My mind is fleeing
I cannot verbalize my name

My body is stained
A map of transgression
Placed on my lover the blame
Though he was obsession

He held me down
I could not speak
No help to be found
I was too weak

Now saved to the end
Most unspeakable of sins
I cannot portend
Where it begins

My hands have wrought
The death of a man
My innocence he sought
Blood flow began

I covet, my father
A life not my own
That of any brother
Please do atone

Oh my father,
My death be tonight
Yet tell me my penance,
I shall cast out this blight

I speak of contrition
Though I will never be enough
You have intuition
Of all things unjust

Thanks be to God
Though I cannot be forgiven
This is merely façade
To demise I am driven”

Knees to the floor
Face to the screen
Fell into own gore
But finally clean