Before you read this expect that you might be shocked, outraged unless you stop to reflect the inside outside twists this poem may have.
You were my only disciple
And you betrayed me—
For thirty pieces of silver
You sold my heart that I gave for free.
As you kissed me in the Garden of Gethsemane
Like the way your father kissed my father—
More romantic than the way my father kissed my mother
As your mouth tasted like pure loyalty.
And just before the roman guards took me
I whispered in your ear—
“I hope you hang yourself like your father.”
And then I bit your ear.
Source: Judas’s Daughter