Dragged in Mud again
I rise from the rubble like Lazarus wearing a noose of night.
The gutter whispers my name through the teeth of tombstones.
Rain baptizes me backward, burying me in yesterday's dirt.
Every prayer I utter comes crawling back begging for mercy.
My soul stinks of survival-perfume for the punished.
Heaven spits when I shine in the slime.
Hope limps behind me, bleeding blessings in the bog.
This hard earth hugs me hard, jealous of my fall.
Under redemption's heel I was born-the gutter remembers my name
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