How do you expect me
to heal
when you keep
stepping all
over me?

Judas betrayed Christ with a kiss.
As a confidant, Brutus stuck
the knife in.
The betrayers are
out there,
thick as buzzards,
waiting to crush your
dreams, like crackers for
their big bowls of bones.
At least Jesus knew what
was coming.
I can't tell my
friends from my enemies.
Someday soon, Ill find
peace of mind, and the
betrayers will feast on
themselves.
They always do.

The evening sky is bruised
as scattered are the clouds
lost and confused
bleeding into the surrounding tissue
delicate deltoids

Looking forward
to runnin *** backwards

again

i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god