You rubbed the blood on my tiny hands
When I was only a child
You hammered the nails into my subconscious
And drowned my head with thoughts of sin and sorrow
And I was only a child
Fearful of what or who may be watching me
Fearful of what or who may be judging me
Until I cowered under my baby blankets hoping to disappear
Yet I have to thank you
Yet I’m supposed to love you
Even though I know you talk to God
And I know he tells you not to love me
But Happy Holidays and
The warmest of regards
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 11:31 PM UTC
You rubbed the blood on my tiny hands
When I was only a child
You hammered the nails into my subconscious
And drowned my head with thoughts of sin and sorrow
And I was only a child
Fearful of what or who may be watching me
Fearful of what or who may be judging me
Until I cowered under my baby blankets hoping to disappear
Yet I have to thank you
Yet I’m supposed to love you
Even though I know you talk to God
And I know he tells you not to love me
But Happy Holidays and
The warmest of regards