Try and smile (when she says I do)

Blood runs too fast for vice a while
and the lying feet of fallen idols
swing heavy with indecision inside my chest
impatient to score the newest marks between my ribs

blink
before the cracks meet up and you fall apart
again
because blurred eyes see twice as much

the beaten hearts of martyrs
who don't profess a cause
have no place in any heaven
that costs anything less than a rosary garrote