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Hemlock is the New Mistletoe

When I wake up on fire

and get caught in the sheets,

my dreams of safety hit the floor.

I've heard the air raid too many times before

to be bothered by the bombs.And you ask me why I'm holding on

to what you're holding over my head.Well I am lost in the space you left between good and bye.

And the butterflies

get caught in my throat

when they try to follow you away from me.I believe in healing

but there is just no prize

for whose head gets stuck the deepest in the sand.I believe in healing!Then Christ,

just heal me!Don't even try to fix this with that face you make.

I know just how you pout

like a rainy day without a parade.

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