Reflect my heart, I saw an angel in a noose
But the barbwire was sort of loose
With a stillborn cherub in her arms
and how she held…
She wasn’t cut, she wore a necklace of her bruise
The pearls of pain that she put to use
Bruise
With a stillborn cherub in her arms
and how she held the little thorn
to keep her warned
Love is a nail, always too late when you’re impaled
The pain of that
The rope of trust hangs you until you’re dead
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