For it is with the deepest pride I make a mess of things

I stink up the kitchen most fierce and pull out all the stops

Innocent ingredients -seemingly so- I’d have to say

Or at least to some they’d be, depending upon one’s appetite

I do this with delight, sometime near sundown each day

All to keep the Vampire away

Judge Not

And all over the place
What a mess you’ve to clean
Yet there down at My feet
On the ground
Dirtying your white with the bloody, brokenness of my heart 
You are
Picking carefully up, dutifully up
Each piece, one after the next
Defending me against the mess
I’ve allowed
Asking me against my better judgement
That I always allow
That I forever leave
My heart
And all over the place