S – D
Dear stranger I have pieces of you I don’t know what to do with. Memoirs of yesterday’s memories, An ode
You can memorize the stories Not the pain hidden in them. They are buried zombies Occurrences awaken to recount memoirs
You take my broken halleluyahs. And all my faithless amens. You collect my desperate tears. And all my consuming guilt.
I died as the man named Jesus interceding for you. Now I live as the glorified King named Jesus seated