I remember when God existed
in vomited apologies
and mental prisons
when I was buried dismal, barely visible
and no one worried quite like you.
I lied more times than I'd admit to
and that's the dead fucking truth. I gave
you countless red eyes
and only shared a few
but broken for us was the better of ways. You were the lake, eerie as ever,
and I was a rock breaking your strides
as you aimed for the shore.