Rebecca Diak

Sun setting, sitting
shadows singing about uncertainty.
I’m on my knees
praying to the god they gave me.

But maybe, I will see
the sun shining the way you do
with the faith, the belief,
the prayers to something
stronger than myself.
I light a candle, and pray
for the world
held within this chest
this breast, this body men adore
to explore, and implore for
more.

But I’m sick of being seen.
please redeem me
with the Word that jostles, tossles the
immaculate,
sacrilege,
excommunicated for the temple of my body.
My body yearns for the safety,
security, sensation, most holy.

The love, the word
the light of the only begotten Sun
shining golden raise.
Its energy is kept from me
in the ruins of this moment
spent reflecting on what it is like to be
molested by a friend.