HerTime

Rocks, chains and pains

A weight sits in my chest,

I’m wrong, I don’t know best.

 

It’s eating at my heart.

Slowly tearing me apart.

 

Choices not made easy,

I walk away feeling sleazy.

 

Two directions, both bad choices;

Currently haunted by their voices.

 

It’s pulling me down,

Showing me who will drown.

 

Who will pay the price,

Throw it down, roll the dice.

 

Growing horns,

The devils thorns.

 

A good choice is never made lightly.

God I wish the weight could go, just slightly.

 

Guilt chains my feet to the floor,

From my cup I have nothing left to poor.

 

I wonder if he can find forgiveness,

Finally let go of this caging stiffness.

 

My bones are tired,

Two years my nerves wired.