You craft your own sins.
Do anything; whatever
your heart desires, babe.

Three days later and
I decided I'm wasted
through stranger methods.

***, coffee, cheap food,
sleep deprivation, music
[loud to keep **** out].

Dark sunglasses, or
general debauchery.
Keeping it simple.

Keeping it stupid,
no reason for the format.
Meaningless to me.

I exist in their
sins, held responsible by
association.

They are crafting me
out of their foolish mistakes.
Eager accidents.

I drown in their filth
and come back completely whole.
The resurrection.

"The Lovely *******;
innocent to innocence/
No stranger to loss."
~
On resurrection;
Die once and live forever?
That's not sacrifice.

Christians are insane,
but I am too in their eyes.
It gives me comfort.

That's no martyrdom,
nothing selfless in the flesh.
They still consume it.