Recounting the times you've curled your toes in the bed you made yourself lay in.
When you repented your sins, were your fingers pressed together?
Did you get condolences?
Recant and restate your apologies, all heartfelt and hopeless.
Lie and wait for the next one you'll rope into absolution.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
Recounting the times you've curled your toes in the bed you made yourself lay in.
When you repented your sins, were your fingers pressed together?
Did you get condolences?
Recant and restate your apologies, all heartfelt and hopeless.
Lie and wait for the next one you'll rope into absolution.
Request permission to use this poem