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Ten quick hail mary’s on the bathroom floor
No, I’m not a religious man
But isn’t everything worth a try?
Maybe
If I sit on the lino, curl up in a ball
I will not be here
Nor anywhere nearby
Instead I shall be forgiven
As I recite my sins through ancient gauze
To a listening ear
Of one so slow to judge
And quick to love
Would I be free of the wrongs I have caused
And may be yet to cause?
Is it true that I might alleviate the pains
That I have spoken
Acted into a suffering world?
Maybe
If I speak out my darkest thoughts
My twisting, writhing hates
My broken hearts and promises
Of which there are not ten
But more
Might I be unshackled from my servitude
To my own vicious morality?
Might I yet be able to rescind my fury
My volcanic judgings
In the warmth of a saving embrace,
Warmth insulated
In these four wooden walls?
But alas, I am not there
But here, in my haste
Crying another ten hail mary’s on the bathroom floor

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