A Crack In The Matter - HM

cigarettes burned sacred points
of your jesus complex
and yet you read the bible
as if your life depended on it
only to find he could not
live up to all that needed being done

and so you, a monk in blue jeans,
set about saving the world
that you felt he had forgotten about

people flicked to you, brilliant brain,
as you sacrificed even those brief moments
of lucidity for a fervor that flung you
against the back of the couch

rocking, rocking
weeping, weeping
at such toil that roiled
in that flawed gray matter

I watched my hero die
a thousand thousand deaths
because you chose yourself
to whip like Jesuit
in a world that does not
even know your name

but I do, lord, I traced your flesh
and those scars that said
you were too good for this life

it has been months since I noticed
any lucidity through line or letter,
or quiet change on a website
and I wonder
if you are saving yourself, yet.