If a poet fills his wounds with poetry, will his body become a masterpiece?

Maybe my cries weren't loud enough
Or my prayers were lost on their way to The Lord
Either way
Can you hear me now Lord?
Can you hear me cry?
Can you hear me scream your name?
Will you answer my pleas?

We hold hands
And bow our heads
In hopes He'll hear our cries
Lord Almighty
Heavenly Father
Have our cries not been loud enough for you to hear?

You want to be my sun,
Drawing me into your orbit, to submission
Again and again.

You want to be my sun,
Radiant and consuming,
But just like the sun,
You burn me with your light,
Again and again

You want to be my sun
But you blind me with your strong glow
I'm blinded and can't see
Is this what you wanted to do to me?

"Gift Of God"
My name means "Gift of God"
What utter hypocrisy
And a weight on my shoulder that my title brings
I am not a gift of God
More like a Burden
I deserve to be objectified for all my sins
"Thirty-Nine" sounds much better
Thirty-Nine like the number
Thirty-Nine like the number of lashes Jesus received
I need to be objectified
This number is just mine

"Im going to **** myself"
You mumbled under your breath
And everyone laughed
Because you were so ******* funny
It wasn't a joke though was it?