I should come to you in every way but I hold back, seems every part of me is under attack
Jogging in place with a tight mask hiding an uncertain face, convinced I’ll never keep pace, there’s always a foul lingering taste in all I do or neglect
Am I Mr. Car Wreck? Twisted metal after a mistake, another inattentive driver reckless on the highway
Still a visitor in the castle of doubt, lazy or foolish knowing I should be devout, need and want to settle down but coming up short town is where I’m found, making up makeup worn as a clown
God Almighty I feel wrapped in thorns, all limbs bound.
Is there, any hope for the hard-headed?
Any chance, for the dizzy ones?
Outer darkness gnashing my teeth doesn’t sound like a great place to me at all.
I feel dumb, useless, and ashamed because I am silent in the wind, sitting on my hands, afraid I’ll never run my race yea, just occupy the stands.
I should come to you in every way but I hold back, seems every part of me is under attack.
What are you thinking about after reading this?