​If today is the last day I’m fighting to win,
might I figure its just the mess I put myself in?

If it comes would I start to clean,
the broken glass under my feet?
I’d rather tell you I feel nothing when I’m bleeding,
hoping the pain I buried keeps me from feeling.

But its really just me I’m deceiving,
when truth starts knocking, knocking then beating,
while there’s a new mask in the making,
a pretence with a holy lacquering.

I must tell you now what I’m feeling,
before I’ve experienced feeling anything,
just words with hidden meanings,
a new jargon that keeps others from hearing,
the truth that’s now pounding.

The terror you’ll see my hand tied back in sin,
I deny than let you come in,
or see there’s nothing to sin,
but the damage I cover to keep me from Him.

It’s just a step and a choice to begin,
to find just what God intends me to bring,
myself to Him.

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