End of the day piles
Mountains of repetitions
And I’ve been looking in the wrong places
Change is strange but I need to heal
Laying in bed wiping eggshells from each heel
I’m tough on everyone except myself
Talk a big game the master of burying self-control’s keys.
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Work on me God
Please work in me God
I’ve been sowing garbage smelling and seeing horrible harvests
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak
Self-control.
Emotion Dough 