I’ve kept your quotes,
pondered your words.
Some aren’t so bad.
Others are absurd.

You’re not afraid of what he’ll tell me…
We talking ’bout the same guy?
Because mine is more worried about my soul
and less about if I cry.

Know what I’m afraid he’ll tell me?
Know what kept me up some eves?
That I would have to let you go.
Turn tail and forever leave.

Man, I’m not ready for that yet.
I’m so entwined in the snare
that it bothers me to think about
a time when you’re not there.

But, I will yield
and yield I must.
Not for the fame
but for the trust.

How true that he will give me more
the more I show him true.
And how surprising, no offense,
that these words come from you.

You’re not afraid, I’m getting there
the fear in me still shrinks.
But again, the worrisome thought,
of us, and what he thinks.

This process is me squaring up,
it’s me tipping the bowl.
To show that I’ve been empty.
And I know He makes me whole.