Page 62 of Sin of Love

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She sleeps while screaming.

Dreams while wide awake.

Horrors circle on a carousel behind her eyelids

violence tears her body to pieces

and I

cannot

make it stop.

A faithless sentinel to her exorcism, I beg daily for a priest who doesn’t come or exist. And the sacrament I have, she refuses.

But you could die.

So be it.

She says it’s poison. Everythingispoison. But it will take away the pain, please, Deirdre, please.

In the end, I can’t begrudge her choice. I’m not even surprised by it.

To be free, she chooses pain.

And I, the sinner, choose prayer.

journal of gideon masters

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