Pacing in my room watching the world go by.
My mind is so empty, yet cluttered as I look up and wonder why?
Clothes are scattered on the floor; books are piled up on shelves.
The sun is shining through my blinds, as a cardinal and blue jay soar the skies.

It’s too hot in my room, I feel like I might die.
The way I'm slowly suffocating is eating me up inside.
Bound by my own spells, I wonder what more will make me sigh.

As the door opens, I anxiously look at what lies
Dandelions brighter than the burning sun sanctify, as healing gusts of wind outcry.
Buckets of rain seem to turn the world gray and blue, like the softest imbued dye.

My dreary face starts to glow, and as night falls, I feel my heart sing an extra beat or two.
I lie in bed, dancing like a bee, reminding myself of the king who forever lives in me.

Why do I think I'm better than everyone else?
But other days I can't seem to even look at myself.

I'm so cocky and ignorant,
yet lowly and sensitive.

It makes me realize how much I don't understand my own,
or why I try so hard for perfection.

Has my whole life has been nothing more than one silly made up competition?

I hate myself.
The imperfection.

And yet my flaws are what make me so different.
Don't I love it?

The quirks of being somebody insignificant?
I don't have to care.

Not for one minute until I feel your penetrating stare.
You've always been watching me.

And for some reason that makes me want to care.
Not that I need to be someone better,
but that, all you've ever asked of me is to be whom you first created.

And a wrenching so deep in my soul knows for how long I've let you down,
but a rejoicing in my heart tells me that was already left long ago underneath the mound.

Like a wave reaching its peak, I thank the lord for his mercy upon me.
I'm so lost and hurt, but when his loving wave washes over me, I feel nothing but utter glee.