Father I don't have much to show
for the past few years I've spent out here alone
and Father I don't know where to go
but the places I've already been
And you and I have been on the rocks for a while am I wrong to assume it's my fault we don't talk?
Father I can't even keep track of how many times that we've had this same conversation,
But Father, I can't seem to reconcile
What I believe with what I feel inside
And I know the light needs the darkness to shine, but why, does it have to be so dark all the time?
I don't know,
I am the least of the Saints because I don't believe half of the things that you have said to me
If you love me the way that you say you do why won't you take this thorn out of my point of view?
Father I'm wrecked. I've got nothing left,
to fill up this hungry black hole in my chest
But I've been showing up
Been singing the hyms
Putting band aids on my missing limbs
But father I'm stuck and don't know what else to do
If I'm honest I know that you hate it too
And if I came home
After how long I've been gone, would all of my things be packed up or thrown out on the lawn?
I am the least of these saints
Because I don't believe half of the things that you have said to me.
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