Nor religion. I no longer
remember what the world looked like,
outside the confession box.
Teeth foaming,
I would have followed you into hell like a dog. Indeed, I loved
you enough to leave carcasses at your door.
Happily unaware,
while I laid the gentler of mankind on your mat,
that one day I would lay myself as well.
Peering through a crooked
fence gate, here. This is what I wrote of. What is
missing from my reenactment of warmth?
I waited hours for the
sky to clear. Why isn’t there enough
love for me to borrow?
Why isn’t there enough?
I put so much in. Why must I
go hungry?
the military & politics
the misery of inceldom