I’ve been working through some things lately…

Outcast

Once again, I stand with sorrow

And no dreams for tommorrow in my destitue heart

It pains me like a jabbing feeling in the back of my neck.

Every morning is a difficult reality of a life spent in sadness.

But a twinkling light full of tender mercy shines

Through the corner of my dirty window.

Is it God or an haulinaction?

If it’s not real then why does it give me hope?

But in my soul I wonder…

How could God love an outcast?

Even though I am grown

I still hold bruises from the rocks that were thrown

The taunting still haunts me

I drunk all my wine

Tipsy didn’t numb the hurt

And wasted didn’t numb my mind

Dysfunctional, weird, unusual, alien like were words used to describe me

But all I ever wanted was someone to be kind

Love always, Esha <3