Old Spice Girl

The scent of old spice permiates through 

the air; as I hold on to the bottoms of my feet. I feel my hole expands and extracts; as you swear at me. I remember all the words; of my nightmare coming, racing back to me. But I don't think back with fondness; of this memory. But I forgive you

- as unnatural as it is. The reason is that I must learn to forgive and show mercy and love my enemies. So, God can have mercy on me. You still are an old spice girl.

I guess that is fine for you think you dominated the pop charts and lived a rebellious life. And that your ways is ideal and clean. But what you started with me was messy and dirty. And now I seek mercy and forgiveness so I give the same to you. Maybe this a way to feel less magenta a mix of all colors and perhaps not Greek blue. I am still Greek blue, but less blue like the sky or the ocean. I'd rather not be blue I'd rather be Venetian pink. But so much for wishful thinking.

This is my way of forgiving and testifying.

And I forgive you.

I