JUDAS ATE MY NORMAL

My hand curls around the empty spaces
where you left
tiny pieces of my heart you found
silence covers the dusty balence
crowded on the crown
unread books
cling too the fragile hope of being torn
because a page feels nothing if its not born

Watching myself bleed
with the knives first seed
and somewhere in the garden
the first rose is stained

the priests i collected
they begin to stir
but i buried the crucifix
under the word

a branch breaks
where no crow will land

this head in stubble
blisters and skin
keeping another judas within
the cloud is twisted torn and ripped
borrowed from the ancient script

i will turn off the light
sit in the cloaked delight
Death shall pierce the thin awkward skin
peeling back that fleshy curtain
exposing the judas within

Alone
Alone
Alone