My Manger

My Manger

You built me

made me your favorite place

city on the hill you said

North Star for the wise men

their camels packed and spitting,

snorting their sarcasm.

You built me

forgetting to draw an exit sign

on my fighting chest.

So now there’s a jagged, bruised wound

where my heart escaped your condemnation.

You built me

departure  instructions missing.

I guess the nails in my hand tell a story

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