Apparition

Every sound you make

rumbles in the space between

what you have and

the sanity it takes to survive.

You're not alive.

You're the ghost

of a saint

I used to pray to.

You're the most devastating

way to

skip through a couple of months.

A couple of bucks.

A couple of half-hearted attempts

to domesticate.

I promised to wait for you.

I stayed true to that lethargy.

That lack of activity

made my mind move faster.

This mission

became my master.

It was exacerbated by faded notions

of connection and

the resurrection of us.

Now that time is ending.

I'm fending off your demons

in favor of angels.

And I will strangle every last

accusation that flies my way.

I won't stray from my mission.

I am an efficient soul

that has pull with heavens.

I have unleavened bread

and wine

upon a shrine of righteous indignation

and scars I have laid before you.

What will you do?

Now that your kingdom has faded.

Jaded makes you ugly.

You tugged me too hard

in the wrong direction.

Now your protection has receded.

No longer impeded

by my need to please you.

So let me ease you back into perdition.

It was a war of attrition.

The thin layer,

that was you,

never had a chance.