i'm wearing the remnants of
last night on my face,
sitting in this polished pew,
and no one gives a damn.
hallelujah!
the seed is planted
in my chest and refuses
to be uprooted...
therefore, i bring out my
pruning shears, to tame
my wild brambles
and their roses.
don't let these
briars choke my heart.
these blooms, they
grow like weeds and
stab like thorns.
...
the shears are sharp.
hallelujah!
