when all your sorries blur together
they almost sound
sincere

The gun that's pointed at my head
Loaded with bullets of blame
Your ammunition of self-service
I know that I'm never around
Closed doors on my doings
And clipped winged words
I know that look
Pools of discontent
And loneliness
I know I'm the cause
And I'm sorry
Guilt is the worst kind of sickness
And my finger is infected
So it is more than able to the pull the trigger
On my wasted youth

Please don't hide your heart like you hide your arms.

Yin or yang?
I have not always been both and neither
once, I was yin- dark,
within,
under,
intuitive-
I am now yang,
and every time I think of a color I
think of gold and white,
and my eyes reach towards the heavens
like it's a prize just for me
and I am supposed to be there
I draw wings on my paper
and remember having them-
not sure when.
I do not love myself because I am
special, or worthy,
or because I think I am capable on my own,
but the Father of the whole universe is my own Father,
for He makes me sacred with His presence,
and showers me with love-
how can I help but love myself?
There is God in me!
My very existence, God has given!

People say they aren't racist and thats a flat out lie
I mean they no longer separate our kind
but they act like color doesn't survive
these people are color blind
they don't admit that I'm  different
and I'm tired of it
people take of your mask
and show your face
we are still people but we are people of a different race

I've always wanted you to expose yourself,
drop the shell,
show who you REALLY are inside-
show it,  just for me,
and I guess maybe I've realized
the shell is who you are.

Alcohol does not agree with my system-
neither do you