01. i owe the good parts of who i am to you, i say like jesus whispers to god every night from the stable he was born in that smells like sh** and piss. he sees the north star glow brighter than the dull stretched rosebud of his mother's nipple could ever hope to be and knows the light is where he is from and knows it is enough.
02. my heart is sore from beating just enough to stay alive. i am trying to convince myself that this is what it means to be human.
03. i watched a high school baseball game in the park by my house and the captain said to his teammate “i cut you so much slack my knife is blunt. you don't know sh**. you don't know sh**” and i think that god is trying to tell me something but his knife doesn't make me bleed anymore, nothing makes me bleed anymore. i need a heavy cross to weigh me down and remind me that there is somewhere i should be going. i need bruises on my skin to read like maps. i am pure as mother mary's milk dripping from jesus's lips that move but never know what to say. i don't know sh**. i don't know sh**.