Idol Hands

practice what you preach. your actions are the anchor tied to your ankle. there are no false idols in this old world. there are no empty promises in this old world. the gods have abandoned us and the planets are misaligned and the strings of fate are terribly tangled. this is what you think the end looks like. this is what you think the end feels like. we do not teach without first doing and we do not warn without first knowing. lord forgive me for i have sinned and sinned and am going to keep sinning. bring your blemished, broken, blackening, beautiful hands together in prayer and gold yarn will bind your destiny. wash your feet in holy water, try to soak the devil out of your blisters. call out to your gods, spill your blood in sacrifice, ask,

and beg,

and plead,

– no one is listening. losing faith is like losing limb and when you realise you are the higher power you will lose every part of your body and suddenly you yourself are lost. forge your soul in hellfire. forge your heart in the inferno. forge and forget. steel yourself with celestial iron. rise from the tip of your sword and lock yourself into stone, where only your beloved can free you. this is your religion. build a cage of thorns around your burning, bleeding, bruising, beating, heart. this is your religion. ink your bible in your own blood. make sure the people who find your body can read your writing. your last words will become religion.