Redemption cleaves my soul

into –


One part grateful

One part I-can’t-bear-the-shame

I doesn’t work that way but that is how I feel


I don’t want to be the one who

needs saving





I don’t want to be the one who is or once was redeemed.

I don’t want a past. A label. A lie. That indicates a former life.

I spit on redemption.

I bite my thumb at such a crude idea.

And yet

in a moment’s notice I’d like to

redeem my coupon

Look at the bottom

in small print:

No expiration.

No expiration?

Is that possible?

Maybe I’ll come around.

Some day.

But today I’m not ready to return

I’m not ready to face the awful consequence of redemption

To see my father

To see my brother

I’d rather not

And my soul –

redemption will cleave it in two

I won’t like who I become because of this – this gift of redemption.

This is not free.

It cannot be free.



    1. Weird! Wanted to write about redemption for a contest but I couldn’t move beyond poetry – and the contest was for an essay…was fun to try my hand at working on a directed writing practice though.

  1. Pingback: Loss | Keeks

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