Where do I start
when my feet are already bare,
my throat sore and raw,
my mind a desert of asphalt--
Where do I start
when the novelty has worn off,
the rags used for bandages,
just strips from my t-shirt--
Where do I start
when my chest is a loading screen,
my brows heavy from determination,
my anxiety overrun by truth--
Where do I start
when I am whole and broken,
a vase simply glued back together,
just a semblance of propriety--
Where do I start
when words no longer join,
my skills have rusted and worn,
my hands shake with hesitation--
Where do I start
when the joy has increased
along with the despair and sorrow,
the rightness and grief intermingled--
Lord, I ask--
Where Do I Start?
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 1:52 AM UTC
Where do I start
when my feet are already bare,
my throat sore and raw,
my mind a desert of asphalt--
Where do I start
when the novelty has worn off,
the rags used for bandages,
just strips from my t-shirt--
Where do I start
when my chest is a loading screen,
my brows heavy from determination,
my anxiety overrun by truth--
Where do I start
when I am whole and broken,
a vase simply glued back together,
just a semblance of propriety--
Where do I start
when words no longer join,
my skills have rusted and worn,
my hands shake with hesitation--
Where do I start
when the joy has increased
along with the despair and sorrow,
the rightness and grief intermingled--
Lord, I ask--
Where Do I Start?