I remember when it stopped. When the ties began to unknot, and I could see for the first time the poison in your draught.
A rose without the rise; just the spikes thorned into my sides pressing me into the passenger side, so you could play Jesus and take the wheel.
You weren’t toxic then, but always. Crawling like worms into out minds eating away at our softer sides, so we would be just like you.
Calcified. Or purified from things like compassion, honesty, love.
And I don’t mean love like LSD fucking, but love like seeing our neighbors as we ought see ourselves – beautiful. Worthy. Bearing the image of God because God doesn’t make mistakes. We do.
And my mistake was paving the miles you carved into my back and posting welcome signs.
Because you will never be welcome here. I’m still digging up the bones of your last visit. Still setting out road flares guiding those you discard to safety.
And you can call me crazy, but your dark shrinks before my light, and tonight I’m gonna burn like the stars.