The Witching Hour

I’ve been going down all the roads I’ve gone before now the miles ride buttery with the new asphalt laid over the toll the wounds took and the surface once broken now seamless yet I remember them well the circles I’ve closed while I hung on a cross sacrificing everything from the years in between…

survivor

there’s a mirror that looks back with a face that can’t leave the sadness like a habit that says grace like a priest for the losses you can’t confess anywhere but to the darkness as long as you’re out there but still inside me i can’t let it go i have to release the guilt…