to count the hurt I woke with each time
is to borrow more fingers after my toes
many a time have you left this room empty
because you were everything my walls
wanted to listen to when you hum & breathe
to my touches
I would pray to you before
slitting you to death & god is
immortal, this body is just a house
for an elusive soul— it would desert you,
your breath would follow,
& this journey, it doesn’t always has to have Paul in it
when your life is like a boy’s prayer that ends with ‘’save me oh Lord / save me’’