Broken Vessel
By Dillon Collins
These are my thoughts when I'm under the weather. Maybe if I throw them out in poetry I'll begin to get better. Maybe if I bring them before You God You'll grant me some reason. Will I ever get through all of this mess? Will there be a new season?
You say you really wanna know me? Then you look at my shoes. They been around, they got some holes, they sing the blues. That's where my souls are, yea that's right, more than one. Cause the same's I got a light side I got a dark side a me son.
These shoes can tell my story, the miles that I've trod, some would call it boring, and still others; a little odd. But they've been bending and giving in for months now and they haven't broken yet. But perhaps that's a testament to these frayed strings and the stress-checked tread set.
I toe the line so much they're almost worn through. The thin spots no longer shed water, not even dew. Seeping in to poison my mind. Because it's now in my shoes where my soul then resides. Soaking it in, my soul is drenched in this sin. Can't I see the past? Where I've been?
Lukewarm pessimistic, I'll wear my "happy face" today. So many people ask me how I'm doing, I say "I'm great!" And walk away. These voices in my head! Have been twisting me, silently. Not even realizing I've been practicing my piety. Not really living, just putting on a show. If ever you realize it, please let me know.
I don't want to be the boy that doesn't realize the importance, I don't want to be the man who is put through the courses. I don't want to be the one who is put through the ringer. Thrown out on a stringer and into the creek, interfering with my breathing and the way that I think.
Jesus Christ, please deliver me from the edge of this brink. I have never been satisfied with anything else that I drink. It's all hollow! It's falling apart! The lies have been weaving with fish lines that are slicing my heart. I have nothing left! My last drop of blood is hitting the floor, as I breath my last breath.
I know it sounds selfish, but I'm in this for what I can get out of it. If you want to use me God, so be it, but I am nothing. And yet, You, love, me? I'm mean, you love, me? I mean, surely, you've heard the stories. About how I've lived in my life. And yet, You, love, me? Wow. Thank you.
