as if

would you wear yourself out on your lusts / & then expect my pardoning hand, as if i wasn’t just / would you harbor all that robbed me of my blood / & then expect my arms, as if their veins hadn’t been the ones

would you spit on my face, & abuse me til i’m half-blind / as if i hadn’t spit in the dust, & put the mixture on your eyes / would you nail my wrists with the hammer i taught you to swing / & then expect me to raise you up, as if you were my king

would you swear another thing to me, as you die within / as if i expected you to raise yourself from the grave you fell in / would you cover your nakedness, here, in my garden / as if my arms would withdraw if they felt the dirt on your skin