It is a fine line Oh God.
I once bottled up myself;
created a version for the shelf.
I envied the stoic men,
this babbling mouth couldn't contend.
I put a cork in the end.
I practised playing pretend.
Then it all came crashing down.
Blew my face into a frown.
Depression gripped my thoughts,
oh the lessons that it taught.
I had to open these doors,
give my heart a chance to thaw.
But while a moth in shadow yearns,
for the tender lamp's touch.
See, vulnerability burns.
It can leave a soul in ruins.
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 6:52 PM UTC
It is a fine line Oh God.
I once bottled up myself;
created a version for the shelf.
I envied the stoic men,
this babbling mouth couldn't contend.
I put a cork in the end.
I practised playing pretend.
Then it all came crashing down.
Blew my face into a frown.
Depression gripped my thoughts,
oh the lessons that it taught.
I had to open these doors,
give my heart a chance to thaw.
But while a moth in shadow yearns,
for the tender lamp's touch.
See, vulnerability burns.
It can leave a soul in ruins.
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