My bones were once tender for you.
It's a muddy road you're strolling down,
and I don't know if you know,
but your shoes are untied
(of course you ******* know).
Or are you wearing slip-ons?
I wouldn't recognize you anymore.
I considered taking the same road
to church this very Sunday
but I was stopped by the discomfort
I felt in the presence of a cross.
Faith cannot mean that my life is safe.
Though my bones were once tender for you,
it is unfair that we are both on a hook
but you hold the string
that tugs on guts
whenever I try to breathe.