sacred nothing:

You are your destiny,

your desire, your want.

The hunger that drives you forward.

It shaped who you are, you are the beast.

It’s okay.

I’m hungry too,

wandering the fringes.

Perhaps it’s what drove us together.

I know it’s what drove us apart.

Like Christ’s hand, nail’d to the Cross.

We only tried to hold what was true.

If only we’d learned not to touch

a hot stove.

It’s okay.

I blame my mother, most do.

I just hope now she knows.

I wasn’t expressing rebellion,

I was expressing that I felt like a ghost.

If nothing is sacred, then sacred is nothing.

You had your first brush with the veil,

glanced your fingers against it.

You told me the story the first night we met.

I never forgot the look in your eye.

Chill’d to the bone.

It’s okay.

Nobody expected you to hold that weight.

Even Atlas only had to carry the world.

In the end it was never enough to be strong,

I needed you to be kind.