the executed have all moved on still I struggle in a shallow grave screaming at the impotent that put me here I am not whole from watching the soil spread solemn faces the earth embraces each grain represents every bit of doubt that spills out of me I'm choking on the words that can't be released only rough skin remains where my mouth used to be it was condemned all the goddamn years ago when I still had pride call it off, call it off I have nothing to say If this body's just a coffin I will choose when it lays We're all just dying to plot our graves serving ourselves a bit of grace on our own terms ignoring what we've learned waste not what you've earned I pray more than the faithful repent more than atoned I've been deemed a skeptic by every atheist I know yet I still can't find meaning in this world I mourn him as he won't find worth eight eyes radiate desires of four hearts ever calling out two shoulders hold up the one burden they couldn't help burning up burning up there's a fire in me from a devil on my shoulder that seeks empathy protect the sinner fuck the saint not finding peace just disdain how can you say we're meant to be this way when you're living in an hourglass and you can't seem to find the time to change I refuse to go quietly if I'm going to hell at least that means you're in heaven holding her head and making excuses for a father who couldn't when I die I hope you see them picketing my funeral screaming at the top of their lungs at least then you'll know that they make the world a bitter place I left the world a better place to call home

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