Catholic Guilt

I could say

everything you want to hear

until it breaks into

pieces on the floor

that you once knew, anew.

Take my hand.

Tell me that I'll see myself

the same way I see you.

Like myself just once

until a true breakthrough.

And I'll hold on

until there's nothing.

Suffer through

everyday until I fall

in line behind the pew.

Bathe myself in salt

until I'm free, unclean.

Bodies ache.

Every day you grow or fall

apart or follow through,

cracked and pulled apart

until you're bruised, unused.

And I'll hold on

until there's nothing.

I could say

everything you want to hear

until it breaks in two.