jesus christ seems super nice

but only
when i’m begging for mercy,
when my hands are empty
and the quiet
hollows out my chest.

the name slips through cracks
a whisper trailing close,
like footsteps
in a house i don’t recognize,
a light flickering
just beyond reach.

and even as i turn away,
it calls again
the sound that lingers
when all else
has slipped away.

jesus christ seems super nice

but only
when i’m sad.