Jesus in a Blender

Met Jesus in a blender
Urging me to kill
The blender hasn’t worked for years
The voices haunt me still

They chase me when I’m sleeping
They yell when I’m awake
Seems angrily they’re pleading
For my life to take

God’s angels now they whisper
Reminders of my strife
They beg of me to end it all
To end my tragic life

The whispers shake the silence
Their touch – an icy chill
Escaping from their presence
Makes them seem more real

Sanity left me stranded
Cold, confused, alone
And Jesus now is screaming
In such a hateful tone

How do I escape this Hell?
They tell me I must die
You tell me death is not the way
They tell me that you lie

Maybe I should listen
Perhaps they know what’s best
If I close my eyes in death tonight
I’ll finally get some rest

Lack of Communication

constant Lamentation for this
risky Operation in which
limited Visualization of
an Exception
hastens Segregation and
leads to Agitation and
unresolved Contemplation of
the Renovation in which
Innovation and
Fascination
with Isolation
turns Conversation into
Extinction as
Graduation from
our Revolution
steers any Association of
time with Compassion
toward Elimination and leads
to Temptation in which
the Internalization of
our Medication fails
yet requires no Elaboration