Myself Crucified

I withdraw almost completely

now.

They say these little deaths

upset the order of things,

but I can see something in them

that is much more precious

than that.

My toast has too much butter

and the scarred and whiskey-weathered waitress

is looking at me

as if I have no right to grace her diner,

while my friends are waiting, impatiently,

for me to resurrect myself 

from the ashes of my crucified form

lying outside their door.

I withdraw almost completely

now.