pin me down like a butterfly.
crack open my chest.
there's a fine layer of compassion there,
thin and soft like a spiderweb;
you could yank it out easily
discard it
in the scraps by your feet;
i will not promise
that i won't fight back
to keep you from seeing past
those spiderwebs
beyond the pink and red;
hope would not sing for me
so i took it gently by the wrist
gutted it,
splattered it all over my own voice,
i sing with a hope on my voice that doesn't
feel
quite
right
but maybe to you it sounds like church bells
i am the canary
that you take into the coal mine
when i stop singing
you will drop my cage
deep underground
and run toward the light
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