"there's something like a nothingness that's terribly illusive
the more i want to shut me down the more i am abusive
and when i watch the slideshow of the bits of me i'm dragging
i don't recognize the photographs, i'm not sure when (and if) they happened

i forget the me that i must have been before the me that i am now
i remember a year that i got through, but i don't remember how

the devil lives in the crossing place between two mountains in the desert
for 40 days he promised me his kingdom for forever
but i'm not sure i'm fit to run a kingdom of any kind
every time i know myself, i leave what i know behind"

Psalm 30

"I cried out to you, O Lord.
I begged the Lord for mercy, saying,
“What will you gain if I die,
if I sink into the grave?
Can my dust praise you?
Can it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear me, Lord, and have mercy on me.
Help me, O Lord.”
-Psalm 30:8-10

Why add commentary where it might just take away the meaning?
So tired.
So sick.
So weak.
Why do I live?
What purpose is before me in this world?
The dust in my veins is filling my head and I'm tired.
So, so, so tired.

Hope lives.
Pushes it away through this weak heart.
Quick to turn.
Quick to fallacy.

Love.
Why?

This venom is so potent.
So quick.
So deadly.
So much pain.
And for what?

More hypocritical found judgement.
Destroying.
So murky.
So hazy.

"Oh the thought of what sets a person free
before I could ever love you back you gave your love to me
now I see my sentencing reprieved
you offer me your everything even though I am still me"

"Father, hear my voice, be it small
Here I am, though I am nothing at all
Dost thou still see something to love in me?
If it be, You will carry me away
That I might live today"