Afflictions

You were my addiction.
I was a self-sacrificing victim
of your much-loved self-afflictions.

Your obsession with perfection,
the need to control every situation,
moving people around like pawns,
keeping track so your lies did not
beat you home before the dawn.

In the days before I got sober,
went cold turkey from your love,
you were all I would consider,
my substitute goddess from above.

Now there is only day to day,
thinking up ways not to think
about the joy, the loving play
that could take you to the brink.

Now you are my affliction,
and I am a self-hating victim
of my much-missed love addiction.

© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012

The Judas Spirit

You are full of the Judas spirit,
self-righteous in your suffering,
self-serving in your sacrifice.

Addicted to suicidal ideation,
craving your cutting edge
like a junkie craves the needle.

Confused in your spirituality,
claiming god as your savior
yet willing to destroy the very life
he graced you to possess.

I do not believe you will go to hell.
I believe you will be relegated back to life,
to bear all the pain of living again,
serving successive life sentences
as god teaches you that love
is the only thing that matters,
the only reason we exist.

© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012