Claim Your Sainthood

The voice sickeningly kind.

Fake and nervous. Stop the people pleasing.

Who taught you to be yourself.

Must have been the church.

Saying one thing, clearly somethng else.

The actions selfish, claiming sainthood

Take your guilt trips from my shoulders, I can't hold them.

We can only hold ourselves.

Call out everyone on your self reflection

Hasn't your shrink been saying the same thing for years

Too kind eyes, irritating droopy

searching for the pity it craves

Live off something else!

Don't make everything a problem

and learn to ask for help.

The words chosen too carefully, founded in fear

you've grown so numb, whose to know

when you're being profesional

and when you're being yourself

so damn stifled, you did it too yourself

go ahead and claim your sainthood

Every saint with jumbled obligations

and no love stand up

Every god with guilt trips

rise and witness

yes, that'll do, thank you

Whose left but the atheists, the pagans and the heretics.

The only ones with clean conscious

and all accepting no racial tenedencies

the friends who'll burn in hell fire together

instead of alone

The voice sickeningly kind

the 1st symptom, too kind eyes

You've let them in your mind.

Don't bother thinking,

that function is uneeded

and for the ones who do

we'll keep repeating holy words until they sink in

until they must be true

The too kind words that slip out of pouty lips

such sweet patronizing tones

with crass implications

well aren't you a dear

you're much too kind

until you're up there on the cross

above the others.