and I think it’s going to be a long, long time

searing into and breaking apart
fleeing and running
saying all the prayers
reciting all the psalms
dear god of the hearth, where is home?

sitting and holding
waiting for the ticks and the tocks
musical time frames that suffocate
so I sear into and break apart
thrown into the abyss
but fleeing from all the demons
-just shadows snaking along my own
dear god of the heathens, where is home?

I threw your psalms in the fire
and held my heart in my fist
ate the entrails of my own monster
dear god of whatever is left of me,
where is home?