Meat

  I let you gnaw the meat

off my bones

just to feel less alone.

Does it help you sleep at night, 

to drink of my youth,

to keep me crucified,

to know that I still crawl down your street - 

scathing my elbows, dragging my feet?

I let you gnaw the meat

off my bones

just to feel less alone. 

You mock the way I carry

my Cross, 

arching my back, bending my knees

knowing: the further I go searching for sense,

the more I am rid of my innocence.