—in all of my ways, I'm not ashamed to
call your name. But so shameful of me to only
say a prayer when things don't go my way. Echoing
the final phrase, "in Jesus name" hoping everything
magically becomes okay.

Seems when I'm in trouble, I only choose to pray
a spiritual prayer that day. And I'll go back to sinning
in about two days.

But let me rephrase, "God loves you, and cares for you"
whether I'm telling it to the crowd, or secretly trying to
remind myself. "Don't envy another," says an envious
colleague, after he congratulations them in an overexaggerating
tone. But when I'm home alone; it's either myself tearing myself
with tears, until my face is torn. Or punching the wall, then
after using the other hand to cope with a little ****.

Actually it's a lot—a lot of the times I'm lost in empty
picture screens, till a quick satisfaction is found. Then after
washing the sins off, while staring in the mirror, and not looking
so proud. As the realism comes to light, as the realist sees their
misdeeds way past the dark.

Like a pick-up truck, hauling heavy loads of these burdens.
But we like to pretend our backs don't snack while forcing
to look like an always good person. In third person, we don't
see all the places you're hurting. But it takes first person, for I
to realise I'm inwardly cursing of those new struggles soon
to worsen.

To oppose another, being the face I choose during the day;
opposing my loving father. And in it feeling ashamed, and so
afraid to call His name; only when things aren't looking too okay.

But here's a glass to all CC's, raise your voice if you know you've
been that type of way. Let me keep you in my prayers; perhaps
you'll learn to speak honestly by tomorrow, than with a mouth of contradicting yesterdays.

                                                 ...don't worry children,
                                your father still hears your prayer!