I’ve danced this dance a time or two
Irksomeness is nothing new.
I suppose this is my cross to bear,
For my heart on my sleeve, I do wear
These thoughts inside me, I do keep.
But I’ve promised forgiveness, so I dare not speak
It’s not the thoughts I mind so much,
I’ve grown accustom to winter’s touch.
Rather the feeling of fear is what I dread,
You see, I can’t get the devil out of my head.
I’ve tried so hard to rid him, he even haunts my dreams.
I see him in the patterns in my cup, made by my coffee cream.
I search the world for some sort of comfort, but even the sky is rough.
How do you mend a broken heart that has never felt good enough?
Note: I claim all content as my own personal work. Any & all rights belong solely to Kristian L. Cosner Weigman. Any and all use of this work without my permission is strictly prohibited