Bruise Blue
Sunday's Best
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Hey, even if your world stops now,
It wouldn't mean anything. I'm sad to say,
Because all splashes are ripples from the distance
--then rings of waves...
Turn them a deaf ear.
I figured it out; now I'm tired.
I'm putting my arms down and turning away.
And the sound? I'm sure there are mouths moving
But I can't hear anything. Not today...
Get it off my back.
I'm bruise-blue from all my abuses.
"She was the queen of the mistakes,"
I was told by everyone,
"Until you made her a saint."