the child god, ronan

Your eyes prove

you were too good for this world,

supernatural blue,

what do you see with them?

(For eyes such as those could

scarcely stop seeing

regardless

of mere death.)

They are swirls of galaxies,

colliding into the minds of the gods,

who reel at your wonders,

and lay flaccid before your joys.

You are what is holy about life,

you are hugs from strangers,

and groceries left on porches,

and mended blankets,

and all that was left

of our hearts.

The world is blank

without your presence,

we are fatally wounded,

we will not survive,

and we should not

survive.

Her love

makes me love you,

and that is why you lived,

to be

loved,

and that is how you

live

on,

in our desperation

for your

eyes.

ronan

I drank your grief today

but it wouldn’t stay

under my eyelids,

no,

I just poured forth your agonies;

they were fervent tendrils

of all the abominations

stringing from your skin.

My darling,

you should tell God to go fuck himself,

and murder the doctors,

and nuke the rest of us,

because we let him die.

Hang us from trees!

We will let you,

we know it’s true,

we own his blood.

God damn it,

all the blood

of all the babies

is

ours.

You are one of the few,

who know we live

on a sinking ship

in Hell.