Your fingers don't look like fingers anymore. In their place I see something  lethal, with a trigger attached to it. You pull it. The roots of my inner most being implode. As that caves in so does my ratiocination. Everything is succumb to the sound of the shot. But my body. It's paralyzed. Numb to anything real but the trickle of tears that run down my face. I fall into cardiac tamponade. Asphyxiated in my very own skin, where your shrapnel likes to call home.

Outsiders can come at me any moment of the day. With looks and actions. In a instant, my day is effected by these people. I now have changed my life to suit them. They have power over me. I'm never good enough or I'm never doing it right. So I walk on the other side. I keep my head down. I don't speak. I don't eat. This is their world. They never stop. They never end. you learn to deal.

I am lost. I feel myself.
Fragment by fragment, I leave. I go.
Rhizo.
Roots.
They are in me.
I fear water. For they feed on it.
Its inevitable to avoid, For I will die in thirst.

I tell myself that I'm numb.But why would I tell myself that. Unless I actually feel everything. As a wall.

I don't.

I do not feel anything. I am not numb. I'm just caught. Between a state. Of here, but not home.

The sounds around me file into a vertex. Then to a point. Then to a haze. Then it swallows me.

Then rejects me. Like a invasive intruder.
It goes back to a point.
Then I'm back.
Eyes no longer stale.
Back in my body.

How insulting to You, precious Lord, I have been.
My efforts are spent seeking to please merely men.
Although, they're as imperfect and lowly as I,
Yet, I’ve held their unworthy opinions too high.
When my attention should be set firmly on You,
Who appreciates all that I am and I do.
It wavers when I look into judgmental eyes
And fear of mistakes creates Your presence’ disguise.
Consuming frustration! I will never be free,
If I try to determine what they think and see.
Genuine satisfaction can only be found
After losing myself in a worship unbound.
My heart’s open to You but to man it is sealed.
Only there, my perfection through Christ is revealed.

"La noche buena se viene,
La noche buena se va,
Y nosotros nos iremos
Y no volveremos mas."
-- Old Villancico.

Sweet evenings come and go, love,
They came and went of yore:
This evening of our life, love,
Shall go and come no more.

When we have passed away, love,
All things will keep their name;
But yet no life on earth, love,
With ours will be the same.

The daisies will be there, love,
The stars in heaven will shine:
I shall not feel thy wish, love,
Nor thou my hand in thine.

A better time will come, love,
And better souls be born:
I would not be the best, love,
To leave thee now forlorn.