With You At The Peak

My first man was an Italian conscript soldier

although the only real war was against his heart

after days of inhaling smoke and gunpowder

I’ve come to think of material pleasures as mortification

he made it out alive just to tear himself apart

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Disgracing humor distracted his next of kin

from wasting his water bill trying to burn the tears away

since I saw how overjoying them can cause damnation

because he’d never wept so I thought it was a sin

worse than talking death threats then praying for him to stay

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While the French sang “where are you? Dad, where are you?”

and turned disappearing into gratification

but the words faded cause he covered his ears like a kid

he conceived unconditional loyalty then betrayed it too

there’s no more angel to worship twice back in the war field

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Because my body’s full of this self destruction

leaving me into this house of cards not to let it collapse

he should’ve taught me how to drive not driven me insane

the weight increased at night when his name became a curse

but I’ve starved for love and validation                        

and his photo by my bed kept me woken up by the pain

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Commanding me to say goodbye then I couldn’t greet

his comrades and I shared sorrow until they replaced his meds

the weight of the blood condemns temptation

it was like meeting the serpent and embracing his deceit

now when I think of him I feel like crying dead (because I cried you, dad)

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And I hate him fervently but I’d still take a bullet to the core

a consciously committed sacrifice is a hidden purgation

I can’t be an enemy of him without being afraid of God’s plan

but I want him to mourn me too so bury me before

if he will end with a white flag might as well say amen

with the Bible in my ribs it’ll be our expiation