Absolutism

Skin

is sin

in the heavenly fathers eyes

so would he have us strip the flesh form our bones.

Concur

and capture

purity

which exists only in the core of our being.

I see him

fallen

in his state of absolutism

without the hope

that was me

standing next to him.

I can't do it

I can't stand next to death and destruction without the ach to run away.

I can't be near it

I can't fall apart again.

But seeing you like this

gone

so completely

I can't help but cry.

My tears are whispers

singing hopeful tunes against the wind

in the anticipation that it would revive you from this state.

Complement

and forgiveness

are different

rather

then one in the same.

You and I were one

the same

being

believing that

skin

was a sin

to the heavenly father.

His skin is cold

in my arms

as I fawn and forsake myself

in this awakening of loss

and lack.

Closing my eyes makes all of this so much easier

yet harder to write down.

Skin

is only a sin

to the heavenly father

so why do we bow so low,

shame

ourselves

inside the barren vessel of absolutism.

I hate it this way.

This crystal clear

fog

glazing over us here

filled with simplicity and manner.

I could fancy myself

find beauty in all things

see fate where it lies

and not lie lonely with the idea of it.

I could keep holding your hand,

you would have liked that

I think.

Tonight

is tomorrow in my eyes

and the next day never coming.

Skin

is sin

after all

to my heavenly fathers eyes

but I will not strip myself

or pimp myself for another's ideas

another's short coming's.

I'll stay

beside you

like I said I would

holding your hand

and help you through these troubled times.

I will smile

only when I'm happy

and not just when people want me to.

I will cry

only when I'm frightened

and not when I think that it will get me sympathy.

After all

skin

is sin

and I

am only flesh

and bones.