∆Remember Us∆

They say

some things.

And let go of the rest.

They kill themselves

and cry —

as if their fingers weren’t

on any kind of trigger.

They long for faith

then slaughter martyrs.

We live,

but we do not learn

without falling.

Still,

they say these fucking things.

Things.

Things.

What are you, Cameron,

besides these things?

What weight can you hold

without begging

to be held?

Cameron —

Who are they?

They scream through daylight

then hide in the marrow of night.

And so you wait,

waiting for them

to say more

things.

What is the moon,

without the sun to blame?

Who gave you this thirst for answers

and called it freedom?

If they are not beneath you,

are they above?

Fine.

Let them rule.

Give me commandments, then,

Overlord.

Drown me in your fire.

Anoint me with ash.

Suit me with wings

that fall mid-flight.

Kill me

with your precious stuff —

Let me drown

in the sea of my soul.

Let the iron rust

inside my veins.

Unplug confusion from my circuits.

Reconnect me.

Cleanse me.

Wholly.

Holy.