Shovel Out

God, I need a shovel

Because dead things keep creeping up in my thoughts and ways

And I need them to stay dead

Gotta deny myself as well

So tired of the tall tales I believe

When it’s your hand and love I need to receive

I know it’s a season of birth and loss

Emptying my closet dirty garments and masks tossed

Oh it hurts, what’s happening to me

But deep down I know it’s exactly what I need to breathe.

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