never once when I saddled up for sobriety
would I ever hear sense from the babble of piety
have to deal with social anxiety
or invasions of personal privacy
the stress of success that I work for tirelessly
emanates in my breath that I hold back silently
like finally isn’t it enough that I rightfully took back my vitality
jumped through hoops and over hurdles in immense gravity
that I let my vanity go when it became ugly
or stopped stifling the moments with my lovely
or put down the cigarettes that I picked up when the stress was too much
from no longer holding that red cup
thrown away that old crutch
but god must still not see me
meandered and mangled I must be
thrusted into the bared fangs while the breeze from the willows rang  “run”!
they teach you to sprint but success is in the distance
they’ll beat you and demand repentance but all they get is submission
and some kids with little attention spans
but god must still not see me
the plans that I have for his earth
the stains I have on my shirt
from rolling in the plains of his dirt
only in intoxications just desserts
did I find my worth
and only without it did I hunger for more