Silly poems (i love posting on here cause its like talkin to air)

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Oh love me my good lord something to pray for? your hands in my hair or some other shallow fancy, you are 2 am and phones on fire. Before the nothing sets in your the something or everything if you look in my eyes. You have kissed me a billion times (i can lie this is poetry) but you couldnt make it matter once. So i pray, the good lord is really yours so i guess mary can teach me, tell me if the fear of fingerprints on your skin can ever disappear, dammed and depleted mary cant really hear, we wore shoes filled with rocks, running home those rocks embedded cutting to the bone, a reminder of you cutting to the bone, it hurts but in church god is bigger than me (often i think not bigger than you) and i will move on from your hands on my arms,

 if not mary will still have me. 

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