A withering Jesus affixed to a bronze cross
judges me from a crumbling plaster wall
as I cower, breadcrumb size in a mousetrap closet.
Used candles, long-extinguished worship the altar
with no light from their shriveled wicks, his pickled form
frozen in agony
while my devout other half
sleeps like the angel she is
in a cold bedroom two floors above me,
soft and silent unless I open my throat
for the screams to come out.
(Jesus gets a headache when you talk.)
The only thing I pray for
is to wake up on the other side
of the door, away from the carved icon eyes
that glow in judgement, their verdict already passed
on sins not yet committed coming
from the whispers in my head.
They can read my screaming and they don’t like what they hear,
the candles moving without my touch,
vanilla smoke boiling in the air.
December Lace (@TheMissDecember) is a former professional wrestler and pinup model from Chicago. She is a Best of the Net nominee and has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Pussy Magic Lit, The Cabinet of Heed, Vamp Cat, and Rhythm & Bones, among others. She loves Batman, cats, and horror movies.
Image via Pixabay
The Cabinet of Heed 