brother, cross the threshold into my arms. / you took all my faith away. / my brother, the fallen angel. i, god weeping for eternity.
i remember you standing outside the doorway. shotgun slung over your shoulder, barefoot in gore.
the wind yelled: wrong creature wrong creature wrong creature.
a bone-deep sickness wrecked you, a gnawing unable to be satiated; a trilogy of sin burrows underneath our bloodline. do you trust this road to deliver you home safely? (something tells me you’ll be dead when you return.)
all the tombs inside of you have been pried open; you let something in that hands cannot grasp. but it holds you, it’s holding you.
one day you’ll be left with a terrifying plague like a belief in god.
i still struggle to answer the question lingering in my god’s eyes. it has nothing to do with fate, maybe it’s an ego thing.
reluctant to be my father, he’s only a companion, a ghost over my shoulder.
he overflows with forgiveness, but i can’t verbalize all i’m at fault for. i ache and ache and ache, still there’s an entire world who deserves him more.
i’ve spent so long in the desert trying to kill what i could not find. my god was here before me, he grows tired with my loneliness spreading like wildfire.
the ring of churchbells don’t sound way out here. no prayers to be uttered, no one to wound their memories over and over again for me. he stands at the mock altar all the same.
‘aren’t you tired? i know you don’t have anything left to fight with.’
i cannot pinpoint a spot in this desert where i can be saved. something out here still clings to me, memory becomes an open wound.