Exit 1998

I should come to you in every way but I hold back, seems every part of me is under attack

Jogging in place with a tight mask hiding an uncertain face, convinced I’ll never keep pace, there’s always a foul lingering taste in all I do or neglect

Am I Mr. Car Wreck? Twisted metal after a mistake, another inattentive driver reckless on the highway

Still a visitor in the castle of doubt, lazy or foolish knowing I should be devout, need and want to settle down but coming up short town is where I’m found, making up makeup worn as a clown

God Almighty I feel wrapped in thorns, all limbs bound.

*

Is there, any hope for the hard-headed?

Any chance, for the dizzy ones?

*

Outer darkness gnashing my teeth doesn’t sound like a great place to me at all.

I feel dumb, useless, and ashamed because I am silent in the wind, sitting on my hands, afraid I’ll never run my race yea, just occupy the stands.

I should come to you in every way but I hold back, seems every part of me is under attack.

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