wooden chapel II, the burning of

theres a boy with a ring
who cried out loud
the day god left earth
to start on bigger things
and this dirt between his nails
came from the mound
where the wooden chapel sat
burning and fell to the ground
these crosses jutting from the soil
like impossible heroes
promise a great story told
and this boy with his ring
whose mother lies here buried
underground

and jesus was a boy
with an angel on his crooked back
a wrenching spine and spider tooth
but he didn’t give a fuck
a stolen horse, both eyes blind
called out his holy prayers
to the boy with the ring
salvation knows no names

a wooden chapel

--shes out in the garden
shaking her angry keys
as she calls out to the wind
to split the bones of leaves
and on the bathroom floor
Im crying on my knees
salt and iron on my tongue
the devil cant get back to sleep--

and
((lingering beneath the cloak of god
and walking in the snow
a crippled bird and a white cat
cry inside the forests womb))

written a while back

I know your demons well, as you know mine - their company has been replaced with other kinds of things like bottle caps and rings and things to fill up that gaping hole you left behind.
So wide, I could sleep inside it.
And when I close my eyes, all I can think about is your mouth.
And I remember words that have hurt, that have cut, that have mended and kissed…
all come spilling out, overflowing, soaking, drenching me.

I am at home with you.

i really miss hearing that.

still

i cant even taste my food.

written in class today

this feels like a desert.
hot iron poured down my throat
and the blistered Fates wriggle their canopy of strings
before my face
as now yester(day) lay rotting inside my chest.


and upon asking God
"how am i supposed to be?"
the silence hollowed a deep crater inside of me
and i silently watched
as the aging devil sun began to cast shadows
longer
than the bloodtrail i left behind.