I wish there was a way.

I wish there was a way.
A way for me to say what I feel day to day.
Because in the day to day
shuffle struggle I am lost.
And all these new conflicts conflict
with all these imposed afflictions and
nothing is enough to smooth these ruffled feathers,
rough touches and smooth notes veto my vote
to understand,
instead I stand open and needing
a hiding place.

So I turn, to you, and
burn for you
asking please.
And even as you try to get a grip on me
my already slipping sanity
slips further away to irrational anger,
dished out to anyone in
striking distance. But in this
instance I still ask,
with palms bared,
for you to create psalms with your lips
and put my soul to rest
with a religion of you.