navigating a world which feels like gravity is working in reverse

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poetry (I’m late, April was National Poetry Month)

there’s often a story behind old cloths
the people who reject you for the old cloths
wouldn’t be interested in the story

people who were coddled
and people who were spanked and thrown around
will just talk past each other most of the time

I will make a poor showing in the hereafter
the parts of me I connected to God through
were destroyed by my mental illness

I go to a church
God’s rays penetrate
I go home more deranged than I came

when you wash your hands of those destroyed by suffering
they’re clean enough to do God’s work

the world is like a paper shredder
it tears you up
and puts your words out of existence