Apparition

Every sound you make 
rumbles in the space between 
what you have and 
the sanity it takes to survive.
You're not alive.
You're the ghost 
of a saint 
I used to pray to.
You're the most devastating 
way to 
skip through a couple of months.
A couple of bucks.
A couple of half-hearted attempts
to domesticate.

I promised to wait for you.
I stayed true to that lethargy.

That lack of activity
made my mind move faster.
This mission 
became my master.
It was exacerbated by faded notions
of connection and 
the resurrection of us.

Now that time is ending.
I'm fending off your demons
in favor of angels.
And I will strangle every last 
accusation that flies my way.
I won't stray from my mission.
I am an efficient soul
that has pull with heavens.
I have unleavened bread
and wine 
upon a shrine of righteous indignation
and scars I have laid before you.

What will you do?
Now that your kingdom has faded.
Jaded makes you ugly.
You tugged me too hard 
in the wrong direction.
Now your protection has receded.
No longer impeded 
by my need to please you.
So let me ease you back into perdition.
It was a war of attrition.
The thin layer,
that was you,
never had a chance.