My bad.

I am not a materialist; I sent home what I stole.
Even though home is nowhere.
At least that’s what I was told.
But still you’ve risen taller, faster
than I could get off the ground.
I sit now in a house of cards
that fell too fast.
You're nowhere to be found.

Needing Help With One's Unbelief

“You weep, Mary Magdalene, as if he died again.”
“He has! Christ have mercy! It was by my own hand!”
Her sobs drag through the sanctuary, tears wet the pews.
If Christ has indeed risen, why the “Good” Friday blues?