Thursday was always the end of the beginning

The nights you piled in,

Stumbling to me again,

Top of those stairs,

Hidden bathroom talks,

Hidden fears never released,

It was pen, it was ink, but it

Was your voice that scared me the

Most—couch family, did you leave me?

It had tears in it, it had water in it,

Its pain spilt all over the floor–

Now those haters say I am to

Abstract, like a John Mark McMillan

Song—this heart bleeds, this hair recedes

Not to soon before age embraces me,

Older, single, alone, or satisfied,

Content not for the content that I see,

That I look upon

Raw is the southpaw no one

Can fight with—open is our hearts

O, Corinthians—vile they were,

Worthwhile they weren’t—for

Gifts distract but love attracts!

Today is all I have,

Spring to summer to another

Cold winter—sun doesn’t

Mean you see light,

Beating doesn’t mean you

Are living—let alive be

On the resume, for I will

Resume to know You

And resume to live for You