Maybe I’ll see you at church next Tuesday
For a certain ritual
a small amount of my own blood
is required—how would you propose
I collect it
I’ve been working on my shadow effects
learning how to scare myself in case
my heartbeat gets any lower
With a little more work
soon I’ll be able to see better in the dark
The sun doesn’t shine anymore
a true exaggeration like an all night rain
keeping me depressed
Some questions shouldn’t have to be asked
the more rhetorical the better—
like do you want me to stay
Go ahead and leave me forever
acting as if forgiveness
isn’t even a thing anymore
may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
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