I can find no other passion
taken from the life I’ve lived.
Gone is devotion to a notion.
Gone the sureness of doctrinal purity.
Gone the group that held me close
and condemned me all at once.
Gone the blind trust that obscures fear.

“Go on.”
“Well, I woke up and it was gone.”
“Go on.”
“Gone. What else can I say?”
“What was gone?”
“Inside. What was inside.”

Delusion has sat on the top of my brain
for years and years at a time.
I had regret, but woke up.
Then, awake, I had regret
and wanted to sleep.
Now I am here,
wondering why.

“What was inside?”
“I do not know—
that’s why I’m here.”
“Then what? Go on.”
“I do not know—
that’s why I’m here.”
“Go on.”