God Watches With Teeth. Every Breath I Take Feels Peeled, Every Thought A Trespass. I Was Born Already
God watches with teeth. Every breath I take feels peeled, every thought a trespass. I was born already wrong, wired for fire, taught to kneel before love that punishes. My sin is entrenched, carved into me by hymns and eyes that never blink. I don’t pray anymore. I implore. And even then, I wait for the slap, not the pity.
I love Him like a blade to the throat, beautiful, agonizing, inevitable. My chest splits open at the thought of Him, ribs pried wide for a light that burns more than it warms. I whisper His name and taste ash. I tremble not from doubt, but from the awful ache of knowing He sees me, every flaw, every filth, and still demands my adoration. I would crawl to His altar with bleeding hands, if only to feel worthy of the terror.
I rot for forgiveness and understanding, pleading for acceptance, and yet, my pleas are only answered with silence.
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