“I JUST WANT GOD TO TALK TO ME. I JUST WANT GOD TO TALK TO ME. I JUST WANT GOD TO TALK TO ME. I JUST WANT GOD. I JUST WANT. There is a swallowing Coming from the garden. I don’t know where my brother is But I think he went there. I think he heard it too. In my dreams I went there, To the garden, To the swallowing. My mother sinks her teeth Into a purpled plum And her mouth comes away RED. NO, MOM DON’T. PLEASE. ITLL KILL YOU. ITLL KILL YOU. ITLL KILL YOU. She bites into it anyway. And suddenly I am all hands All teeth Sore lips Dry mouth A prayer dropped in my lap Like a baby Or a disappointment. I am both. I DID NOT MEAN IT. I DID NOT MEAN IT. I DID NOT MEAN TO. OH, GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE? He is not an angel. They loved him holy. They loved him divine. They loved me earthly Like the dirt they told me to work But I did not mind. There is peace in the fields. I was made for it. My feet are sproutlings, Hands like sage. You? Conquering thing- Golden boy- The day before it happens You call me a lamb While your hands still glisten From your SACRIFICE. I wonder, did your slaughter Feel this filthy? They called him angel, But I have known angels. Baring Eden with flaming swords And burning eyes. They would have ripped My heart out Without a second thought. WHY DIDN’T THEY LOVE ME? WHY DIDN’T THEY LOVE ME? WHY DIDN’T THEY LOVE ME? WHY WAS IT ALWAYS HIM? Why am I the one to toil? To work? To live bloodless, to be clean, And somehow you are the martyr now? Oh the swallowing My brother followed the sound Like a fawnling. Not me. This was my mistake. Adherence. WHERE IS MY PARADISE NOW? I am always the villain. The monster, But did anyone ever ask If my brother had done me Violence first? Remember that I brought fruit for sacrifice. He was the first to taste the slaughter. In my dreams He still licks Blood From the moon. FATHER FORGIVE ME FOR EVER BELIEVING YOU COULD SAVE ME. I DON’T NEED TO HEAR YOUR VOICE. I HAVE MY OWN. My fall began far before you marked me. Am I not my father’s son? Am I not tragedy in conception? I WANT. I WANT. I WANT. Freedom. Softer hands. A mouth that is not a mouth, but a river- an opening. Something holier than myself. Something holy. Shoes that fit my feet. Feet that do not wander, but dance. Fruit bright and unspoilt. A better dream. A garden garden garden. Eden, but filthier. The world, but more like me. A life- an afterthought. A heart that does not beat in the space that another should. A heartbeat that was ever mine to begin with. AM I HOLY ENOUGH FOR YOU YET? Listen, we both know my name was never In your books to begin with. This isn’t slander. It’s the truth. You have always had a favorite son. How longs have I wandered, And yet, I only ever found humanity In myself. Ungodly? Thank you. God is not kind. So I take this As a complement. He made me kill my brother for a story arc.”
— Cain’s Hymn (via biancabraswell)
