Sometimes there is a wall
A brick wall
between my exterior and my interior,
between my head and my core,
between myself and myself.
Maybe that wall is really a dam
because when it comes down,
my eyes and my soul flood.
Everything looks damp
and everything looks damned.
Reality is repulsive to me.
It's not what we were created for,
my soul knows very well.
They tell you empty words.
Sometimes truthful,
sometimes meaningless.
I long and hope and dream for Heaven,
but right now Hell feels closer.
Yet I rejoice that Jesus reigns in my very soul.
It is hard work to feel these days.