Thanking The Lord For My Fingers

In my hands I hold a lot…. it may not amount to much, but its my everything and I’m proud of the things I got.

I carry it all well, ok so maybe that’s just the little white lie I tell.

I know somethings slip between the cracks in my fingers…

I see them there lying on the floor as I go to shut yet another door.

Its okay its just another of the million peices of me that get lost in you.

A tiny bit of my heart is on the soles of your kicks…  I am readying my stone cold cheek for my well deserved licks.

and I can take it… strong enough to love and lose… and accept the wheel of time turning… the season white hot, it’s burning.

I would strip you bare of your soldiers’ shoes.

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