I’ve got scabs to pick:
Remnants of a bleeding heart,
Memories of a first time smile.

I’m still hoping on wishes made from dead stars,
Our promises exploded light years ago
So I put my faith in ghosts,
Dazzling liars

I pretend wasp stings are butterfly kisses
And that atheist’s prayers don’t scare me
Don’t question empty churches and disappearing bees

I need something to believe in
And something to see in the mirror
Other than my mother.

I need scabs to be scars
And stars to be stars
And something stronger than butterfly wings