Longing
        
               for a world made right

Knowing
  
               the truth that restores

                            
                                      Yet.
                                              Still.

Living

           in brokenness and disrepair

Waiting

              for the world to be pure white.

Like I'd blink
and nothing would be the same

Like I'd blink
and everything would be the same

Like I'd blink
and I don't know what I want

When I wake up

He bared His back and took
the lashes
The number
just shy of ******

He bared His back so
your back could be free

He lifted up your burdens,
said,
Take My yoke upon thee,
for it is easy

No condemnation
Now grace, you see
For away has wrath been washed
In a flood of water
and blood

He says, you are
redeemed
oh child of Mine
Bought at a price
Once a slave,
now free
Orphan
now adopted

I bared My back
bore murderous lashes
Child of Mine,
you are redeemed

So give Me all things
tired, weary and broken
Let My back bear the weight of whips

Let burdens fall on Me
And let Me
be
your resting peace

A cloud surrounds me.
Suffocates.
The lies, they feel so real they must be I can't see anything else anymore so
Clearly, so they must be
Everything I've forgotten, every scar that I had gotten, and the words, the stares, new knife-marks in my skin

I know the Truth, but I can't always discern the lies.

It only takes one, to get in, penetrating my skin. And downward, I spin.
Into the darkness, the abyss. I can't
get out
Drowning
The words and I think I'm the end of everyone's stares. It only takes one thing, to hear, and my mind runs wild. An inescapable spiraling of words and thoughts of self-loathing.
It's a tangled web of heart-broken conditions, misintentions, these afflictions, did you know heartbreak is a diagnosable thing? It is. I decided.
My heart was breaking.
My heart is break
ing.

Tangled misintentions, a wave of self-doubting afflictions, all conditions of this mess
we've woven.
A web we've spun from our brokenness, and in the madness my minds screams,

This is all your fault
Never good enough
Too much, or
Too little
You'll never be whole
Broken beyond repair or care
This is all your fault
Time to leave
Always say never
Because you aren't fit for any
Endeavor
It's better if you leave
You aren't good enough to believe
Just go
Never
good enough

The lies are so thick I can barely breathe
Scars aren't really healed if you're still bleeding from the slashes. Cut hearts and, broken wrists.

And none of it's true and part of me knows it, inside but the lies keep on coming and sometimes
self-deprecation, feels good
self-imposed asphyxiation, fills you up more than air in your lungs could
Because pain is an addiction when we won't believe who we are.
When I don't believe.
I'm just creating more scars.

And the lies wrap me up, suffocating in this web of misintention, but a moment of clarity reveals all these afflictions, I sense the darkness creeping in surrounding and
impounding my heart.
Drowning out the Truth, masking the lies, telling me I should believe I'm worthless.
And the lies
make sense
I'm
suffocating inside
I cry out, inside my heart and my mind

Tell me the Truth, I can't discern the lies.

That
infiltrate my soul, I've heard them so many thousands of times
But the scars haven't healed and I'm still bleeding from the slashes
I need a reason to sing, I need someone to bring me out before the swirling darkness settles in and poison takes over my veins. **** out the venom
Or I'll die here alone

And I cry to hear the Truth that overpowers the lies.

I was alone in a claustrophobic cloud of hateful invention.
And two hands reached in, grasped my shoulders, turned me round.
Looked past my eyes and straight into my soul.
Gentle and loving, I hear,
I will fight past the lies to tell you the Truth.
You're Mine

Restless. The journey to and from and around my own mind. It's surprising, I'm supervising, this life of mine. I sprint up the stairs of my solitary mind, the castle cascading down a mountainside. Around, around, through trenches, around towers, upward I climb. Stairs grow smaller, closer together, near the top. Rails gone, I look down and shudder for it never stops. It seems I could run forever in this endless masquerade. This masquerade, mask, mask, masquerade. At the top, now. The peak, the pinnacle. Looking down I can see it all, my mind, through my mind's eyes. Everything I've beaten, everything I've broken. Moments, Memories, Scars, Stories, Relics, Relationships, Sounds, Strings, Pictures, Places. Chaotic world, jumbled together, with some surprising and inspired chance forming my fortress. I can see it all. So real. I'm so, tired. Of this masquerade. Mask, mask, masquerade. I recall, all the moments. But I will not fall, as, I look down and through and over and about the past problems, relics of remembrance, sweet sorrows, gentle joys, hope and happiness, helps and highs and glimpses of Heaven. It's my story. My messy mask. As I look down and take in what surrounds, I change. Restlessness grows still. See my world, embrace the masks I've made. But, the masquerade no longer defines. It won't fill, me.