You can tell I'm doing bad, I'm awake at 3 am again for the third time this week.
I'm hurt, I'm tired of walking with my heart in my throat. I'm tired of walking on eggshells
Here I am on my knees again,
asking a God I struggle to believe in
to help me, to wash with his mercy
the smell of failure out my life.
Does he even love me?
with all the jobs I fail at keeping, and all the right things I fail at doing
and all the bad boys I let kiss me.
even if they don't make me feel anything
am I this vulnerable? why does the
cruelty of strangers still come as a shock to me. Wasn't I taught to expect that? or have I forgotten that too?
cause I'm so good, I'm soooo good at forgetting what it was that helped me get ahead, I'm sooo good at beating myself up over the unnecessary
