forgive, me for the instances of not knowing how and when, to understand my trauma.
for this is a song of constant remorse for me - sin and guilt combined.
learning, how much time I allot, to being lost but never knowing, if being found, is sweet - or if sweet is even what matters at this point. amen.
again, mistakes and again, a solution.amen.
needless to say, I am the product of many sins, so my wrongs echo further than my back, neck and eyes can feel or see - yet this guilt is contemporary an has deep affection for me.
needless, to say, I am the child of one thousand - two hundred and twenty six wombs, maybe.
am, I moving through strength of a headless sacrifice, or leaning on the will of a chaotic sinner’s last plea.
chaos, is still of spiritual design, even if chaos can’t exist divinely.