Listening to words that dig deeper

into places empty

waiting for refill

refuel

beautiful things come from our broken places

the cracks we try to hide

is where we shine the best light

colors painted over crimson red

making rainbows of favor in our own eyes

but covered scars

remove the path we’ve walked

ill timed humor

tripped laughter

rancid hoarding

tucked away tears

plastic water colored lives

can we dig ourselves out of the grave we’ve dug

when we have covered ourselves in our chocolate tasted lives

shovels down

dirt washed

under the only flowing river

called a CROSS