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