He Broke This Place

Remembering dismembering.

Broken bones every year now.

Can’t climb out, it’s a slow crawl.

Kneel, tho’ it hurts,

Because it hurts, so.

You want to cut yourself, ya?

You had enough of the bad, ya?

Forget about all a that glad, ya?

You gonna cut yourself.

You shoulda shut you self.

Here, in this dark room.

All spirits here bloom.

Like there was no doom.

Everyone goes to heaven.

AS IF.