Crossed out

Erased, based, destroyed

Soul destruction

Made out to be an object smaller than I am

My soul sings loud

Above the skies

I want to grow into that woman she is

I wanna scream at the top of my lungs that none of this matters

This plastic little place we call the world

Destruction creates creation

Demoralization creates character

Suffering creates compassion

I must remember who I am

I want out, of this prison, this shell I've been carrying on my back for centuries now

No one sees the real me so it's hard to see it myself

I have to keep going in in inside my body to find my soul, over over and over again

The meditation gets harder and harder

The motivation, harder and harder to find

Why do I keep fighting? Why must I? It's almost like I want to

God, don't make me climb up this damned mountain again. I'm tired. I'm sick. I want to come back home to you.

No one listens to me. If they do, they don't understand. How could they? It's like screaming from atop a cliff to a person in the water. They can't make out my voice as I tell them, "climb, dammit!"

Wake up, please. It's lonely here. I want you here, with me.

For the love of all that is holy, take up your cross, follow the light home. He's here, waiting, for you.