I am the martyr that dies for his faith but did not live for it. I sat in the pews, recited the prayers, faked the movements. On a cross my death was tragic. They spoke of my bravery, my obedience for years ( Read more... )

symmetry. one here, two there, one back here. when i was a kid i had to do things in fours, i still revert back to it every now and then. i was so afraid of hell then. of fire and satan. i was afraid when i sided with satan's army in the story before i knew better. i would pray to god, not ever touching the floor, sweating. what ifs? now, i've been ( Read more... )

oh god, your hands were so tired ( Read more... )

we're in love with our depression, are we not?
and our stolen words,
we cut out a poet's tongue

our hands are tied, are they not?
we're a lost generation,
you and i

every casualty is in our head
and how we mourned for them
(every man i drowned)

these hands have killed
and they will again

with albatross determination ( Read more... )