I Can’t Be Saved
driving through the city
with my windows down
—
i feel freedom pass
as i stick my head
out the window
—
headed towards
the freeway
with a fleet
of flashing lights
—
the irony
of freedom—
—
the freeway
is the same road
that costs
the flashing lights
—
they talk
about freedom
like it’s this
giant place
—
and heaven
like a place
where we go
to reap
our mistakes
—
living with
the idea
that if we move
with enough grace
—
god’s judgment
might grant us
eternity
—
that thought
just graces
my mind
—
i’ve believed
almost everything
is divine
—
every emotion
that controls me
—
every situation
and every woman
pulling at me—
—
something
intertwined
with fate
—
i can’t
be saved
—
there’s no one
who can help me
or point me
somewhere
—
when my roads
already be calling me
where they’re at
—
there is
no way back
—
the gears
never switch
in reverse
—
the same way
i’ve been living
since my mother
gave me birth
—
i can’t
be saved
—
there is
no way
—
and my mom
keeps complaining
that i’m
too negative
—
that thinking
too logically
isn’t the answer
—
that i need
to seek out god
and start
to pray
—
contradicting
my ways
—
and the way
praise can become
misunderstood
negligence
—
when prayer
becomes a reason
to wait
for what your hands
refuse to change
—
but how
can i face her
without taking
her words
as an attack
—
when maybe
there’s truth
sitting in that
—
i used
to react
emotionally
—
never logically
—
it took me
too much time
to reach that
—
so now
every word
against my thinking
feels like someone
trying to take me back
—
but i can’t
get used
to feedback
—
when i see
the same people
pray
—
while nothing
in their lives
has changed
—
one finger
pointed
at me
—
three pointed
right back
in their face
—
but maybe
that’s the problem
—
we keep looking
for who needs
to be corrected
—
instead of asking
what neither of us
has changed
—
maybe logic
without faith
can leave me
without grace
—
and prayer
without movement
can leave you
in the same place
—
only to realize
—
i can’t
be saved
—
there is
no way
—
stuck between
the road
that calls me
—
and the god
they say
can change me
— Mr. Mak
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