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"Holy Communion Photograph" By Bernard

* Please note. This poem may be triggering for some people as its quite raw.

Roll up roll up,

And see his Bitch
Who’s now his embittered Snitch.
Looking for exoneration,
He drank his piss then, loved the intoxication.

He proposed that I swim in his private sea,
The one in his home that was insular and free;
- Come to me, says he,
Snuggle up to me and see what will be.

He whispered and joked
As he stuffed my throat,
After which he'd say with a change of heart
- Get down again and say your prayers. Give thanks for receiving my wonderful Art -

O yes, I'd suck and I’d spit in the usual manner.
I was so like the mechanic's spanner,
Loyally twisting and turning the nuts
Only to dog my life with inevitable -Buts-

Yes, he was the Master and I the slave,
But – Yes, he killed my chance of being brave.

I am not ashamed to say I once loved this man - But –
Not in the way he wished,
I thought he loved me, It was for twisted treasure, he fished.

O so Blessed he and Sinner I,
When he looked down, he hissed – DON’T you dare cry! -

O cruel O cruel serpent of life,
You pushed into me your sickly strife.
Not all of the glue in the whole wide world
Can seal the pain you so lovingly hurled.

Time ticked and it ticked, the alarms bells rang,
Nature made the scab to shield the pang.
The boy who thought he escaped the Pain
Was only to meet it once again.

Gone now is my beloved priest,
O wisest of wise, your legacy has left the widest of breach.

Now it’s for me to pick at that scab.
Like grasping the nettle to cease further pain
The process will drag but I’ll learn to cope.
Soon ,you’ll be unable to smother my hope.

One last thing;
Did you think of me as you slipped into death?
Did you not know I'd pick the scab upon your last breath?
To reveal once more the throbbing wound you so lovingly gave?
But what do you care? You have a part of me tucked-up in your grave…


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