It’s happening again
That lower than low kind of low
The sinking inside myself
The thoughts that create a gaping hole
The well inside that is no longer a producer of water
Just a dry empty, useless well

I wonder if that’s how Mary Magdalene felt
As she filled her buckets
And then along comes Jesus

An empty hole
Sitting/standing
(who really knows)
In front of the Holy

What a lucky damn whore