To Breathe Dirt

All things we must use
All things we were made to abuse
Do you hear my whispering voice?

The memory of you,
Laughing at the things we said
 Underneath Christmas lights
Became nightmares of violence
that ate away at my years
It makes a good man cruel
When his joys turn to fears


You taught me how to love

I love you still and I always will
But there, at the end
I learned how to hate completely
Everything that breathes 
and grows on God's earth.


What if a god had too many children to care for?
What if we are only brought up to fall?

Maybe there is no way of knowing
 And maybe the search matters least of all


But when we meet, and when we touch
All things pass away into dust
You taught me how to feel and now

That I hurt, I want to teach you how
To breathe dirt.