You know...

Even with the anger, the pain, the confusion...I have to throw myself in the dirt and lament that I bite and attack you relentlessly. You make my heart burn with passion and love, you lift me above this desolate Hell and let me see absolute beauty. The only thing to ever pierce the heart of this broken creature has been your love.

I've hated this world, cursed your hand, despised your church, attacked your childrean and done everything possible to rip apart this life. Still...only you, only you make me smile, only you make my heart skip...you rip me from myself and hold me up against the holy standard and MAKE me see your justice.

The wrath you poured out on your son, the holy fury you ripped through your own flesh just so I could possibly begin to understand what it means to love. You listen to these screams and screeches and place definitions and meaning inside of me.

Thank you.

"Yet I see true art, I see her, and I see you
and Father you inspire me to sing to you
you inspire me to sing to you"

-Showbread, "Stabbing Art to Death"