A ten dollar bill sat in my pocket, form-fitted, & harder to reach that envious paper, whispering, “Hold to me, tight.”
They say because I’m weaker physically, I need to take what I can get.
Washingtons & Benjamins won’t be provided freely forever.
The government can’t be your well of sustainability plays like a symphony-
swelling waters from my eyes, each night when reality looms into my dreams.
God, I’m spending my nights staring at the ceiling, wanting to throw every ounce of green away, away, away-
dig a hole & bury every selfish aim with numbers adding to hundreds I can’t handle properly-I’m using it as a safety net, aren’t I?
I’m entangled in a web only I could weave-constructed with the words of those that don’t believe someone in the sky can provide love through sacrifice.
Okay, I’m afraid to throw everything so
freely given to me so I may glorify my King & I won’t bother giving empty phrases meant to show for an apology-
my actions must be appalling.
I’d love for comforting,
but the touch of Your hand scares me more than my eyes trying to remember a death at Calvary for my freedom-
look at what dying for protection’s sake has done-opened my mouth to bring spit upon the face free of blemishing.