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I am flooded with words.
My conscience likes none of them.

My thoughts don't move in sentences,
only in downpourings, outpourings,
with flashes of clarity,

but the rumble of distraction
and thunderclap excuses
deafen me
while I continue to
drift,
mute.

It seems that
I have more misdirection
than a crooked oar,
and my boat
holds more weight in dead lizards
than it holds in penitence.

I can only hope that
this year,
once again,
I will be washed

ashore.

Inspired by Yom Kippur - 'Day of Atonement' - 2013.