Only feel when there is a blade on my wrist
I now i seem like a girl who needs help
But im really just a girl that needs a little love
There is nothing more you can do for me
But love me unconditionally

This month I call you Saviour.

Mostly, instinctively
I call to you as Lord-God and Father.
Typically these are the names
I call to mind at early dawn.

But this month you are Saviour
as I become more acutely drawn
to my need to call on your saving grace
on your sacrificial willingness
to cast off the trappings
wrapped up with heavenly glory
to embrace the blood and the mess
that comes with small town nativity.

This month I address
my Hosannas to you,
my loving Saviour.

Winter air dresses
with foresight of wrapped up folk.
Frigid layers coat.

It begins here
On your neck
As a soft kiss
Tasting your skin
Down

Down


Down


To your
Soul

Sure they all say
Putting yourself together again is possible
But everyone fails to mention
That jagged edges will never fit the same
Glueing together sharp sides
May keep it all together for now
But
Only one drop away
From returning to a fractured state

Free lunch?
Of course
I'll go to my kitchen
nothing will it cost