There should be a sermon today.

I died last week.

I was a hermit, but not in a crab way.

Eat, not as much.

I used to devour meals and prayers.

Trying to spew my sins.

My head spins.

Lost control.

I don't understand my role.

Can't comprehend the toll.

The full amount of damage dealt.

I am the elk.

I make eye contact with the hunter.

My presence fuels his hunger.

I'm at a fork.

Do I die or survive?

I gauge my demise.

Is it so bad to disappear?

I feel that it's worse to live in fear.

I was born to conquer.

Now I'm queer.