poem

 Missal

First, do no harm—

So many times, decisive action saved a life

But rarely, you can fuck someone up

The lord giveth and the lord taketh—

You’ve developed a god complex

You walk on the water your spirit drowned in 

Doctor, heal thyself—

Three quaffs of denial and a vial of self delusion

Dress your wounds but never say how you got them   

Sometimes the treatment is worse than the disease—

As penance, you have to eat without using your hands.

Stand on one leg. Stop your own heart.

Lord, forgive me my sins—

8/10/25