i told bunkle,
if dostoyevsky's right
that the person

god trusts is
the one to
whom he gives

a lot of
pain, think he
trusted us too

much this time,
he said well
we gotta trust

him he knows
what he's going
to do with

all of this
i looked down
at my sweatpants

someone other than
me and none other
than me had

written you say
you have faith,
where is it?

save Your people

...save me
god, i don't
have much left

but bruises today,
it hurts to
wake up it

hurts to try
to sleep it
hurts to think

The smoke curls
      but not as ringlets
        as a mountain stream
            searching for it's lover;
                                     the river
         it dispels and dissipates
   without warning
or clapping of hands
  no incantation
     evenly and solemnly it flows
                         always away
as a dream upon waking

i don't know what to do
he wants me
i want him
too
but
is it right
or
good
for both of us
this kinda love
isn't just something
to play with
*******
is serious
and no one takes it that way
anymore
i don't need one more thing
to be attached to
ughhh