Sore wrists,
eyes swirling
in a sea of people
who don't know who they are
Anxious writing of lists,
fingers curling and pinching
a tall church steeple
angels singing from above
The only thing stopping me
from my wrists having slits
is the heavenly feeling of God's love
Pews that hurt
and that impatient tick in my body,
I have a hard time sitting still,
fingers scraping the nearby windowsill
Didn't think I would make it to 18.
Life has been numb lately,
I wish I could just go,
but my faith won't let me...
despite feeling so low.
