It’s been too long
Since I’ve clasped these
Scarred hands together
To pray to a man’s face
I no longer remember with
Veins pumping nothing but
Old English and sinners indifference.

If tomorrow is yesterday’s attempt
at an apology, does He
need to hear my excuses today?
An ex-sister of mine once told me
We can find forgiveness in solitude,
But she never explained to me
How to keep our shadows from weeping.  

I buried all my false amens
And hallelujahs in Alva,
Where they paint red dirt
Gold and give it to their fathers
As a form of offering.
I’ve watched good knees break
While looking for the real thing.

I will never be the prodigal
Bastard you wrote me to become.
Nor will I be the celebration
You planned for strangers.
I am the last piece of Brimstone
Found in the Garden of Eden,
Waiting to become a testimony.

Durell Carter is a teacher and poet based out of Oklahoma. He is currently a graduate student at the University of Central Oklahoma where he is focusing on literature and creative writing. He has been published in Petrichor Journal, Prometheus Dreaming, From Whispers to Roars, and has upcoming poetry appearing in Midway Journal and Tempered Runes.