Miraculous

Jesus turned water to wine.
I can turn wine into piss.
I’m doing it all the time.
It’s fucking miraculous.

A Personal, Customized Hell

I carve out my heart just to look at it
I guess that it really was there
I’m blacking out from the lack of it
I wonder who’s bound to care

Mother? Father? Of course, no doubt.
Sister and brother will bawl and shout.

I fall back on the linoleum
As puddles of red spread around
St. Peter regards what a fool I am
And sends me flaming on down

Devil! Devil! I figured we’d meet
Are you really as bad as they say on the street?

He figures out just the right punishment
For a boy who murders himself
A sick, yet appropriate judgment
A personal, customized hell

I wake up on the linoleum floor
It seems I am damned to live some more.

The Lord Must Have Built Adam from Spare Parts

We are God’s greatest frustration
We are the color that is always a few shades off
We are unruly paint splatters
We are scrawled on torn canvases
We are molded from clay that never dries
We are augmented
We are after-thoughts
We are poorly-detailed place-holders
We are meant for more
We refuse to mean anything
We are glorified failures
We ruin ourselves
We are all unhappy
We may have all been bad ideas

We are all God’s most hateful critics

No Solace For Fools

A shadow cast across my sunlight
from a thousand miles away 
No rest for the wicked
No rest for the proud
I haven’t slept well in an age

A thief is reaping the harvest I’ve sown
He creeps in my nightmares and laughs
No justice for truth
No truth for the blind
And now I’m becoming the past

Blue eyes that follow wherever I go
Staring me dead in the face
No joy for tormentors
No solace for fools
A life gone completely to waste