I want to die in the arms of god so he can feel all my cracks in the palm of his hands and in my last breath, while staring up into the eyes of perfection, the anger in mine would leave the golden gates trembling. You could’ve made me like you, I would cry, how dare you deny me that relief? And In my dreams he shivers with uncertainty. Why a god would do this is irrelevant, all that matters is what sins I will make them pay for.