aayoungplease don’t make me
your dime novel messiah
it’s too much of a burden
for any mortal to withstand
besides
saviors always
end up
nailed to a cross
i haven’t the time to get hung up
i have children to care for
who need dinner cooked tonight
i wish to wrap you in a clean warm blanket
pulling your life into my arms
as my kisses
chase the anguish far from your brow
cleansing your blistered face with a cool cloth soaked in forgiving waters
wipe the hour glass sand from your hair
telling you it’s going to be okay
then shake the hell out of you
while screaming,
“Wake the fuck up and stop doing this shit!”
before you die
lost in this pattern
a man painting his life into a mirage
there is no poetry
in what might have been
the affliction you suffer
is the retribution
of your outraged nature
your rebellion
is plotting to burn
it’s well polished shelf
please know
there is no pill to remedy
a life slipping by unlived
no syringe of dreams
potent enough
to run warming peace up your veins
you are the merciful god
who will end the torture
within the pit
sublime discontent
transmuted into chapters of ink
will be your salvation
and the will to build a door