What beauty, what grace
Lies in the unsaved?

A bitter kind, a sour kind;
The fruit that is eaten when un-ripe.

Unripe belongs to the too-ripe,
A desperate attempt at cancellation

If we mix heaven and hell,
We are brought back to Earth

So the corrupt devour the righteous,
And no one goes anywhere.

Diary of a girl with a constant headache.

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