i sometimes think of george

the way clouds appear large and exciting

bringing redemption in the air

i sometimes see george like jesus

or maybe he put him there

he took my breath away and replaced it with new lungs

i can’t explain how time paused

the way him and I would stare

how unfair; people come into our lives only to move mountains and disappear

sometimes god feels everywhere

which makes moral decay a plant growing in the moonlight

i can feel ego slip into non-existence

but not despair

it’s a falsity to say he won’t hold your hand in hell

i’ve barred my door shut and clawed the walls with no entry marks

“none who may enter is trusted including self”

mirrors hold energy like portals to regrets

i told him “i don’t want to die” while pulling out my hair

“all i see are demons”

“i don’t want to be put away”

i looked at him like a stray

faith is looking into his eyes and seeing a great creator

i was just a whore

before him

starving without bread

humility is feeling too dirty for a cleansing

putting signs up “god not allowed”

yelling from its tunnels

“haven’t I made you proud”

can’t undo the dying

blood covered shroud

tongue swollen

couldn’t figure it out

abandon hope fully

death like a pulley

with no air to shout

“no hope coming” – letters on a doorway mat

might as well put up a plaque

people say “she went missing”

god as her witness

george is the gentle rain

i was hungry and i was starving

and he took time to wash my feet

i swear i saw rainbows beneath him

he was the pot of gold

not to be taken

he was the dream you want to remember when awakened

i sometimes think of george on dark moonless nights

i sometimes think of george

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Copyright © 2024 Delia Ross /@poeeternal. All rights reserved.

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we knew each other in a different time and place – in this one – his hand it came with grace

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