bring me to my knees.
bleeding believers into the breeze
collapsed into relapse
folded, end over end
like hot glass in a toffee machine
desperate to be something new, 
but coming out the same.

a mess. 
a cheap amalgamate.
a glossy something stuffed with something
leaning toward forever
hoping someone finds meaning
looking closer than I care to
closer than my design intended.

a car crash
batted-eyed whiplash
side-speared on the cross
skies shattered on the dash
bedside teeth, stumbling
clumsy roads, thunder rumbling
a storm called destiny
for the sacred wretch named me.

arachnids don't have six legs
but i played the part anyway
half on a limp 
and the other, on a whim
knowing that god 
left us unfinished.

'i've got all the screws Black needs
i've got every one.'