Redemption cleaves my soul
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
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.
in a moment’s notice I’d like to
redeem my coupon
Look at the bottom
in small print:
Is that possible?
Maybe I’ll come around.
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.