Fading Faith

Fading Faith

Week 1, the summer of shifting sadness.
What was I to feel anymore
in my gelatinous hole,
ever moving,
a gooey puddle of stifled sobs
and an unshakable uncertainty.

I remember the night prior,
an unprecedented mess
of searing gold
sizzling down my throat
and the burning distaste
for that friendless fool.
For I certainly wasn't
his companion anymore,
he slithering between my words
and beneath her sheets,
injecting poison into my chest
to boil and thrash.

It remains in my heart even now,
a toxic reminder,
sending my heart plummeting
into the stinging acids
melting away at all the hope
I ever had for myself.

And yet,
in four days' time,
I stand before
a crowd of kids,
confused and alone,
looking to me for the answers.

I brush the ashes
from the hole in my breast,
rising to the occasion.