Cross

you in your martyr pose
hand on your heart and liquid eyes
puffed up like an allergic reaction
to life

goddamn cartoon, a parody
of man
all cock chest and baritone
playing dress-up in a real man's skin

sincerity creeping out from
your fingertips
outstretched, you try too hard

i believe nothing.

apologies, and you're sorry
for the things i thought you did
and you're sorry for the things i thought i heard
and you're sorry that i didn't
fall down weeping at your feet
and beg forgiveness from a god
i never wanted knew or made

this is your creation, now
welcome home, it's cozy here
quiet, dark, you built it well
nothing can get in
and you sure as fuck
can't get out

and outside i don't need to see
the things inside
the cross, the nails
the sound your chain makes
drug across the floor
the light you killed
is all mine now.