God,

I am tired of fighting.
Why am I like this?
The world is kind of a chill place.
I mean most things are legal here.
Love is a thing that guides many through.
Not many have the thoughts I do.
I don’t know how my dreams
can carry over into real life.
How I can get my throat cut in one,
wake up, go outside, and think it will be alright.
I don’t know how it got to be a crapshoot.
Maybe you’ll sleep better,
Depends on what food you had, like a gremlin.

God,

Is there a pain button you press on me?
Just to see how much I can take daily?
Why do you make it unbearable
to do the things average people do?
Why is my life a circus? If not a circus, a zoo?
Why do I write in poetry, sound out syllables
into something else?
Why am I the feeling of worthlessness
I get from this?
Why me, and no-one else?

God,

I pray to you.
Heal my cut throat.
Heal my severed synapses.
Heal my bruised ego.
Stop the madness.
I can’t last like this.
I pray to you.
Stop the sting of needles.
Stop the word inoculate.
Stop the verbs. Stop the nouns.
Stop my mind for a minute.
Stop the adjectives
I call myself.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.