Breaking Fast, My American Ramadan

Toe nails are painted
my hair is all over the place
I stare intently at the woman in the mirror
this is not me, or who I was supposed to be
I recognize the eyes but everything else is unfamiliar.

modesty was once me now I am everything American
I swear, a lot, I drink occasionally I get high
I smoke cigarettes, I have sex I berate and judge
am suspicious and accusatory I am all the things
I was taught better than to be,

the sad part is, I enjoy it and guilt consumes me
guilt is ugly and undeniable
I wear it like make-up all over my face,
praying in the end I am forgiven,
and that makes me a hypocrite

doing wrong and then praying
knowing all the while your sinning you're going to pray
and pray and pray but you're still going to do it again
and pray again and again, damn those circles
perpetually round

I do my best in this war against myself,
feed who I can, give to whomever  
I will always help my enemy in their time of need,
I know charity and make sure to pay it forward daily
but I have not fasted

I try and then I give someone a dirty look an think douche
and then my fast is broken,
trying again but accidentally brush my teeth or smoke
everyday somehow before I even begin its already broken
today it was my cat, I tripped over him and cursed

the figs my friend sent me for Ramadan are on my counter
right next to my 3 joints and grinder,
I wiggle my painted toes and look for a lighter
my American Ramadan
tears fall and the smoke rises