My key silently slides into the unlocked door
The midnight hour muffling the noise
Welcoming light pours onto the lawn from the kitchen window
Heart heavy, I push open the door and flinch as the kitchen lamp glares at me with its revealing stare
My face and clothes are smeared with my sin
My body reeks with its stench
What was disguised and hidden by the darkness now uncovered for you to see
Rather than risk falling asleep in the cushioned armchair
You sit at the uncomfortable kitchen table
Waiting for me
Wanting to talk, wanting to help
But I can't admit what I've done to you, again
I can't sit down with you, look in your eyes
And confess what I snuck out and did
In the morning, I'll pretend it didn't happen
And you'll still love me
I close the door and head for the shower that will not cleanse me
But the running water cannot drown the sound of your weeping
6 comments:
This is awsome. The wording could be tightened a little bit. Is the person waiting intentionally obscure? Is it a parental figure, a husband figure? We can tell that the narrator is a girl, and at first my assumption was that the person she met was her spouse, but then the tone says it is a father or mother...
Well, it's supposed to be God.
Ok. That is deffenitly not a clear message. I can see how that could be an allegory etc., but the details with sitting at the kitchen table and everything else make it very physical and real. The thought of the person waiting being a nonphysical all powerful God is not clearly portrayed.
Especially with the 'risk of falling asleep' part.
Well, I was saying that he would do what it takes to make sure that he's available when she gets home, even sitting uncomfortably so he doesn't fall asleep. Anyway, I was trying to get to the "adultrous Isreal and church" from our perspective. The bible talks from His, where he forgives us for being adultrous, but there's our side. And sometimes I feel that yeah, we both know what I did, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to talk to You about it, and I don't know why I'm so weak and left again, even if I was sorry the last dozen times, and I'm sorry now, it doesn't stop the shame that I did it again.
Sigh. I sure know how that feels
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