heretic in hell

It is befitting for a child like I
to squander my youth in a fitful deposition
swearing God to negligence.
There seems no better way to spend the hours- the years
that accumulate in the deep wrinkle of time
(between my embryonic state and the
rotting mass which awaits)
I much rather tear at the folds of space
with bleeding nubs broke at the knuckle-
the violence makes life seem like it has a motif, a need
a thematic element to curate meaning.